


Through the Clouds

by Harley_McCoy



Category: Wolfblood (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harley_McCoy/pseuds/Harley_McCoy
Summary: Learning the Smith family has vanished without a trace, Rhydian tries to move on with life, but before he can fully, a woman with a familiar scent appears and sends him on a quest to fulfill a promise.
Relationships: Rhydian Morris/Maddy Smith
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. Case Closed

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Best of Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21576979) by [MrsRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/MrsRen). 



> This story is AU (alternate universe). It is set after series 3 and does not incorporate series 4 or 5. That said, please enjoy 'Through the Clouds'.

_**Chapter 1: Case Closed** _

_Rhydian could feel the biting cold, his paws kicking up snow as he feverishly searched for the one person he couldn't wait to finally see. He clambered over some rocks floating amongst the sea of heavy snow, the day falling away into evening._

_There._

_There bounding down the hillside was Maddy. Rhydian felt as if a surge of electricity coursed through his body, and he pushed himself even harder to meet her. Slowing to a stop, the two Wolfbloods nuzzled each other, breathing in the scent of the other._

The young Wolfblood blinked away the sleep and let the dream slink away into the farthest reaches of his mind. Looking over at his alarm clock, he checked the time. He rubbed his face and stretched. He pulled the quilt away and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Jumping to his feet and feeling the cool wood floor of the nook that had been converted into a second bedroom just a year prior by Daniel and Emma Smith, Rhydian exhaled in a determined way. 'Today. Today will be the day I get answers,' he thought to himself.

Rhydian changed and moved through his typical morning routine before leaving his room and greeting his mother, Ceri, and his father, Gerwyn. Gerwyn was seated at the small wooden dining table in which Rhydian recalled many times joining the Smith family for supper. Gerwyn was casually perusing the newspaper when he heard Rhydian sit with a purpose next him. Ceri was was washing a dish, when she reprimanded her son, "Slow down, cub. You are going to choke. The food is already dead, it ain't going anywhere."

At this Gerwyn peered over the paper. "Rhydian . . ."

"Don't," he forced through a mouthful of sausage. Rhydian was readying to shovel some toast into his near full mouth, "It will be different today." Rhydian saw his mother's shoulders droop, and heard his father exhale noisily through his nose, but thankfully, neither said anything. Swallowing the last remaining pieces of breakfast and chugging it down with fresh orange juice, he patted his father's shoulders and waved to his mother before leaving the small farmhouse.

* * *

Rhydian exited from the black cab and pulled his wool coat tighter to him, the fall season making its present known. Taking in the sheer size of Segolia's corporate building, he took a moment to gather himself. Strolling into main lobby, the blonde made it to the elevators on the right. Purely on muscle memory, he selected level 12 and waited. For a company studying such advanced sciences as manipulating the DNA of Wolfbloods to help cure illnesses, he thought the elevator would move more quickly. At this rate, he could have easily made it to Dacia's office faster by foot. As if a shotgun had sounded to a race, the elevator binged and Rhydian exploded out of the lift and immediately sped off down the hall toward the External Affairs Department, also known to certain members to house the WICU Office (Wolfblood Incident Containment Office).

He was just about to open the glass double doors when a voice called him. "Rhydian?"

The young man whirled around to spot his friend, Jana coming up beside him. Rhydian released the door and let it slowly close. Standing outside the office, Jana looked quizzically at him. "I didn't know you were back? How was your trip?" he asked.

"It was fine. Didn't go quite how I wanted, though," she reported, which he half-expected. Jana was recruited by Dacia shortly after the incident with Alex Kincaid to help quell other flare ups in the Wolfblood community; whether it be to help a pack that had been discovered or dissolve a threat to Wolfbloods, themselves. Because of the sensitive nature of the cases and to protect those involved, she often couldn't share details. As much as he didn't like to have secrets between them, he respected the nature of the business she was involved. Plus, she seemed to thoroughly enjoy what she was doing and was at peace, having found a purpose and a pack to belong. "What are you dong here?"

"I'm here to see Dacia. It's been month and she hasn't reached out about Maddy and the Smith's whereabouts," Rhydian answered, clearly disgruntled at having to explain his reason for being there, much less having to justify it.

Jana crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pressed in a firm line as she seemed to be in deep thought. "Let's go down to the canteen and grab a bite," she said, turning back to lead him to the elevators.

His eyes moved from her to the doors and back again, deciding if he should follow her or not. He wanted to speak with Dacia, it was all that had been on his mind since the night before when he determined that Segolia had long enough to come up with answers. Ever since Rhydian learned that the Smiths were not in Canada like he had been lead to believe, he couldn't eat, sleep, or think properly. It had been nearly 3 months since that awful discovery and nothing had trickled down to him that they had located the family - _his_ pack.

* * *

Rhydian drummed his fingers on his leg as he waited for Jana to pay for her food and join him at the corner table. "Want some?" she offered, seeing he had only grabbed a hot coffee. He shook his head, his leg bouncing up and down impatiently. "Jana, I - "

"Rhydian," she cut off, sympathy laced in her words. "Maddy was my friend too." Sipping her tea, she looked about. "I wouldn't go as far as to say we were the best of friends, but I considered us equals. She has my full respect as a Wolfblood and an alpha," she continued in a hushed tone.

There was many a time that Jana's frankness and direct-to-the-point way of speaking would create problems, but Rhydian wanted nothing else. Leaning in, he quietly implored, "Jana . . ."

Understanding that Rhydian was focused on one thing and one thing only, she exhaled as if having carried a heavy burden. "The case has gone cold," she finally relinquished. He felt like he had been hit by a train, stunned into silence, he merely blinked. "I . . . I'm terribly sorry, Rhydian." Jana took another sip of her tea, her eyes fixated on him.

For a few moments, Rhydian merely existed, nothing - not a single thought seemed to be had. Then, without really thinking, he made his way back to the steps. Somewhere behind him, Jana was calling after him to come back. He took the steps two and then three at a time until he was back at the glass doors. Pleasantries be damned, he rushed pass the receptionist to the far corner of the hall where Dacia's office would be. Entering the room, he was surprised to see it empty. Her scent still present, she hadn't been gone for long.

"Rhydian!" Jana had finally caught up, slightly out of breath, her arms outstretched to barricade him inside. "I know you're upset . . ."

"Upset?" His hands clenched into fists. "I'm not upset, I'm furious, Jana. Now move," he commanded, his face starting to redden with anger. Jana met his growl with her own and proceeded to keep to her post.

As their growling escalated, a voice cut-in. "Rhydian?" The man in question looked passed his friend to see the very woman he expected to meet all morning. "I am under the impression that Jana has broken the news to you."

"Is it really news if nothing new has happened?" he spat. "Are you even trying?"

"Rhydian!" Jana reproached, her voice sounding more hurt than angry. Dacia put her hand up, in her typical composed way, and moved between them, not meeting either ones' eyes and sat in her high-back, leather desk chair. Turning it out to look at the beautiful view from her window, she sighed contently.

Both teens watched the woman get lost in her own thoughts, waiting for her to continue. Dacia gestured for him to sit as Jana closed the door and leaned against it. "Rhydian . . ."

"Where's Maddy? Where's Mr. and Mrs. Smith? What happened?" Question after question rocketed from him. He couldn't restrain himself if he wanted. Dacia patiently allowed Rhydian to rush through his interrogation, until he seemed to tucker himself out. After not taking a single breath for fear he would forget something, he was left panting.

Dacia calmly opened a small refrigerator discreetly hidden under her desk and handed the blonde a bottle of water. "Feel better?" Rhydian didn't answer, just twisted the cap off and emptied half of it in single take. "We don't know anymore from when I last spoke to you, unfortunately . . ." she gave him a look that said she wasn't finished, "What I can confirm is the Smiths did not go to Canada."

"You don't say," Rhydian grumbled, earning a hard shove from the redhead behind him.

"The letters were carefully mailed as to not leave any DNA evidence, and were mailed from Surrey - from someone other than Smiths. These updates were meant to deceive Segolia and were successful until your arrival ruined it." Rhydian's eyes fell to the carpeted floor, making small patterns with his sneakers. The horrible moment replayed in his mind. Him eagerly knocking on the door that night, to find a complete stranger answer it. The subsequent panic that overcame him as he called Segolia to check he had the address right. He wasn't wrong.

"Rhydian," Dacia called his name again, bringing him back to the present. "I sent my best agent to search the area, interview locals, and even meet with some disagreeable Wild Wolfbloods," at this Rhydian realized she had been looking Jana not him.

"So that's where you went," he said more than asked, swiveling in the chair to look at her.

Jana gave a small smile and nodded her head. "I really tried, Rhydian," she whispered.

"I know you did," he answered earnestly.

"At this point, we've run out of leads. No one in our network that we have documented as contacts, both Naturals and Wolfbloods, have heard from them. No transactions were made from the morning that we dropped them off at Heathrow Airport. The last purchase was for 3 coffees and some pastries at Starbucks."

"How did no one find it weird they weren't spending any money?" Rhydian asked, completely dumbfounded by this.

"We don't have the resources to monitor day-to-day transactions. Only when suspicious purchases come up do we intervene."

"And you don't find zero transactions suspicious?"

"We had no reason to look into their finances when we were receiving updates from them regularly. Their case was fairly isolated. Dr. Whitewood was deemed the threat, and once she was "managed", those assigned to their case considered it a successful transfer and the threat nullified. We had no other evidence to prove to the contrary, so no further investigation was conducted."

Rhydian could feel his anger beginning to boil as Dacia finished explaining what happened. Rhydian raked his fingers through his hair as he tried to remember to keep his temper in check. "What about Alex Kincaid?"

"We don't suspect he had anything to do with this."

"The man tried to destroy us!"

"He's also dead," Dacia said, her voice raising as she slammed her hands down, her fingers starting to pale from the pressure she was expelling not to lose her own composure.

"Dead?"

Rhydian's brows knitted together. For a split second he wondered if his thoughts had slipped out his mouth, but alas, Jana was the one that had asked. Her one hand that had been resting on Rhydian's shoulder in both a way of comfort and control, fell slack by her side.

"Yes, he died shortly after capture. . . we're not sure what the cause was from, so to speak, but we don't suspect foul play," she added at the last minute.

Rhydian searched Jana's face, and she too, was at a loss for words. The man that had nearly succeeded at ending her entire pack was given reprieve of his crimes by divine intervention. "What about his associate?" she forced out, closing her eyes to stop from crying.

"Dead too," Dacia confirmed, clasping her hands together on the desk. "I'm very sorry . . . both of you . . ."

* * *

Walking out of the headquarters for Segolia, he pulled his collar up as the wind bustled through and seemed to pelt any brave individual who dared to venture outside with hard, unforgiving rain.

"Rhydian!" The young man, feeling numb from what he had just been told, continued to look for a cab. "Rhydian, please wait!" In spite of wanting to just take off and never stop running, he turned around to face her. "I won't stop, you know that, right?" She was trying to pull rogue strands of hair off her face as the rain quickly drenched her. She blinked rapidly, trying in a futile effort to see through the downpour. "Rhydian?"

He didn't know if he was just lying to her or both of them, but he bobbed his head up and down. "I know," he said softly. "Me too."


	2. New Beginnings

_Nine years later . . ._

Rhydian breathed a sigh relief as the person he had been waiting for came into view, the patrons awaiting to be seated, parted almost by some type of supernatural power. Rhydian began to stand as she approached the table. He flattened out his tailored, white shirt and chuckled as her easy going personality seemed to surround him like a warm blanket. "Sorry, for being late. I didn't expect so many question from parents on back to school night. I don't know what's worse, ignorant parents or over-involved one?" she laughed loudly. To those that didn't know her well, her laugh could be seen as obnoxious, but really was a demonstration of her larger than life personality.

"No - no worries," he murmured, his mind on the small piece of jewelry protected by a tiny velvet box, coveted in his left pocket.

The waitress came over promptly and Rhydian ordered a nice bottle of Merlot, her favorite. It had taken him a long time, longer than the others, to finally accept that wherever Maddy and her family had gone, she wasn't coming back. Rhydian forced himself to believe they had elected to abandon Segolia's offer for a new life for something different. That Maddy, being as smart a she was, somehow knew that Segolia had been compromised and couldn't be trusted. That for his own safety she didn't return. She wasn't dead; even though, he was certain that's what the others believed, it was what Dacia had been forced to conclude when her superiors demanded the case be resolved.

And so, he had gone through the grueling gauntlet of dating. With some help from Jana and others, he had finally found another Wolfblood to love and that loved him. Her name was Laura Bianchi. Originally from the States, she became a citizen when her university offered her a chance to partake in a program to study abroad. Falling in love with the city of London, she never looked back. Rhydian and she had been dating the last four years and it was time, he told himself. As she delicately took another small spoonful of her gelato, she smiled, catching him staring. Laura's blond hair glimmered from the lights sparkling within the crystal chandeliers that hung from the cathedral ceiling. "Everything okay? You've been acting weird." Leaning in, she whispered, "I can smell it. Something is wrong."

"Well . . . I guess I can't hide anything from you," he smiled, sliding from his chair onto one knee, "I wanted to ask . . ." presenting the ring, "if you would marry me? You make me happy and I want to spend my life with you," he swallowed, "Do you want to spend it with me?"

It wasn't Shakespeare, but it was honest and if her lunging for him, tears in her eyes, was anything to go by, it was a 'yes.'

* * *

Rhydian was lounging on the grey sofa in the loft he shared with Laura. Staring out the window, the day overcast with the promise of snow, he gazed at the barren trees and abandoned walking trails of the park across the street. Coming from the kitchen, Laura plopped herself at the other end, careful not to spill the piping hot cup of coffee she was carrying. "So, I've been looking at the prices for the videographer and photographer, and I think we may just have to suck it up and go with one or the other. I just don't think we can swing both. I know you were really looking to have the moments captured in black and white stills, but wouldn't you rather be able to hear our friends' messages of well wishes and our vows of undying love to each other as the priest weds us? I'm sure people will be taking pictures on their phones and stuff."

Rhydian pulled himself away from the view outside to his fiancee, cocking an eyebrow at her in disbelief. It wasn't until Laura had rattled off all the items yet to be confirmed, that he realized how complicated planning a wedding had become. He once tossed up the idea of just doing a more traditional Wolfblood wedding, but then how would she invite all her coworkers? Rhydian didn't have much in the way of guests, in fact, he could count on his one hand all the people he planned to invite. But, Laura was a ball of energy and a magnet, accruing a large number of close friends, both Naturals and Wolfbloods alike. Rhydian wanted Laura to have the wedding she wanted - though his mind constantly circle back to the problem of how they would pay for it. Laura was a teacher, while he worked part-time at the local butcher shoppe and part-time as a freelance artist. "Are you sure we can't do both?"

Laura gave him a look that didn't need him to ask again. "Maybe if we had more money," she mused.

"Laura, please . . . the videographer is fine, I guess." Rhydian knew, if he could, he'd hire a certain someone as a photographer, he also knew that if he could have it his way, she wouldn't be the _just_ the photographer, at all. Shaking the thought - dream - from his mind, he stood and stretched. "I need to do something, I'll be back later tonight."

"Rhydian, I didn't mean . . . It's just you're talented but won't put yourself out there and the butcher-thing isn't going anywhere. If you would just give Anthony's offer a real consideration . . ."

Rhydian rolled his eyes, he never thought of himself as working behind a desk, a typical 9-5 job. Living in the city was still something he was adjusting to.

Trying to come closer to his goal of leaving, he nodded. "Maybe," he said, offering a half-hearted smile.

Laura beamed at the idea of Rhydian acquiescing to her friend's offer. "Hey, why don't I come along and we can stop by that ice cream shoppe just down the street on our way back?" She was already moving to leave her seat, when Rhydian stopped her.

"It's . . . you're making so much progress with the wedding . . ."

"Yeah, but I could use a break since I've been doing all the heavy lifting, don't you think?" She winked and collected the papers she had been using to jot notes on.

"I do, and I'm sorry. Wedding stuff, you know, isn't my thing?" He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats and looked about as if hoping for a better way of telling his girlfriend he didn't want her to come. "You should do a girls' day."

"You don't want me to come?" she asked, her voice hitching slightly. Her frown deepened when he didn't contradict her. "You don't want me to come," she said solemnly. Glancing at the calendar that hung in their adjoining dining room, she sighed, "Right, it's the anniversary of your friend's disappearance."

"Her whole family," he added weakly.

"You don't have to do it alone," she rose this time and walked over, cupping his jaw with her hand, so he would look into her blue eyes. "It's time to bury this . . . fleeting hope. . . I know it's hard, but . . ."

He'd think she was being insensitive if he hadn't been told so many times before the same thing by others, "Yeah, I think you're right. It's kind of why I need to leave - to take care of something." It felt like someone was pressing on his throat, but nevertheless he pushed through, "It's time to bury it and move on. You and me . . . We're what's important. You're my future, yah?"

She nodded in agreement and kissed him on the lips. "Okay, well, I think I'll take you up on your idea of a girls' day. I'm sure Margaret or Julia is available, maybe both." Laura grabbed her long winter coat from the back of a dining chair. She winked as she danced around him to grab her purse before giving him a peck on the cheek and confirming she'd meet him back at home for dinner.

Rhydian waved, feeling like someone had chained cement blocks to him.

* * *

Rhydian drew up all his will power to grab his ratty-old sneakers and a worn winter coat and venture by train to the countryside of Stoneybridge. Rhydian typically loved the cold, the feeling of Jack Frost seeming to dance about the woods, his wake leaving that biting air that made you feel alive with each inhale. But, it was horrible when trying to dig a hole. Alone in the wilderness - or so he thought, Rhydian had been digging for nearly an hour. A twig cracked, and Rhydian spun around to see Tom Okanawe pause mid-step, spotting the fierce look in his best mate's eyes.

"Whoa there killer," he joked, his hands raised in surrender. Rhydian immediately relaxed and laughed as Tom finished crossing the distance to come beside him. Spotting a small trunk next to a some upturned earth, he looked questioningly at his friend. "Turning pirate, are we?" Rhydian laughed again, feeling a moment's reprieve from the oppressive task at hand. "That isn't a body, yah?" Tom was bobbing up and down on his toes, trying to keep warm. His curiosity getting the better of him, he crouched down to open it, when Rhydian snapped it shut with is shovel before the contents could be revealed. Tom jumped back, nearly falling over. Gathering his balance, he turned to his friend, shocked. "What was that for?"

"It's nothing."

"I would believe ya, but no one travels out to the middle of the moors to dig a hole and bury somethin' - if it's nothin'," he said pointedly, his eyes lingering back at the case. Rhydian sniffled from the cold, wondering why the hell did he wait until the middle of winter when the ground was frozen to do this.

"Let it go, mate," he pled, the words sounding hollow in his own ears. After a pause, Tom nodded, effectively letting it drop. "So, how'd you find me?"

"Gerwyn." Tom's eyes moved to the old, leather bound trunk, being held closed by two straps. Rhydian knew that Tom was running through some type of checklist for what might be nestled in it, but true to his word, he didn't ask. "I bumped into him at the market - was visitin' my mum." Tom shivered, and swayed, trying to keep away the numbness such cold brought on. "Anyway, how 'bout drinks at McArdles'?"

Rhydian blew on his fingerless-gloved hands, rubbing them together to keep the circulation going. "Yeah, how 'bout a little help and we can go sooner?"

Patting his pockets wildly, Tom looked up, "Oh, I'm sorry, mate. Left my shovel home, did I?" He laughed at Rhydian's frowning and soon left him to finish his digging.

* * *

About an hour or so later, Rhydian stopped at McArdles', the local pub, to meet Tom for a beer. He wasn't surprised that Tom wasn't alone in the booth. He loved his friends, but seeing them together always tore at him just a little. Maybe is was the memories that seemed to bubble up to the surface, or the reminder that felt like a slap in the face of what never would be.

Nearing the table, he coughed loudly to let them know he had arrived. "Rhydian!" Shannon greeted, maneuvering herself out of the booth to give hime a hug. Rhydian embraced his friend, her eyeglasses knocked askew on her face as they separated. Adjusting her frames they returned to their seats. Rhydian called over to the bar tender for a beer, relishing in the warmth being inside brought. Sighing as he took in the different people lingering about - all locals from Stoneybridge, he relaxed. Rhydian had always felt more 'at home' in the country than the bustling city, but the city presented better opportunities and money, or so he was told. "So?" Shannon prodded giddily. "What was inside?"

"Shan!" Tom reprimanded, followed by a snort from Rhydian.

"What?" Shannon asked innocently.

"I can't believe you told 'er," Rhydian narrowed his eyes at Tom, leaning back so the waitress could place his beer down. Taking a nice long swig, he shook his head disapprovingly at his friend.

"She's my wife, are you really surprised? Plus," he paused looking at Shannon, "I told her not to ask, yah?"

"Come on, like that was really not gonna happen," she huffed. Taking a sip of her water, she clasped her hands over her heart in excitement as the food they had ordered arrived. Plucking a French fry from her husband's plate before it was even fully placed in front of him, she smiled as he feigned displeasure of the pilfering of his dinner side. "If you can't handle my curiosity, what are you going to do when there's two of us?"

"Cry," Tom retorted, earning him a light smack on the arm from his wife.

Rhydian's laugh simmered as her words echoed in his ears. "Two of you?"

"Oh, we forgot you don't do the social media-thing," Tom said, half pretending, half poking at him because Rhydian was so out of the loop, "Shannon and I are expecting."

Rhydian smiled, but didn't say anything. Feeling as if someone was twisting a knife in his back, he shifted in his seat, the tension settling in his shoulders.

"Rhydian, did you hear me?"

Realizing the uncomfortable silence he gave room to blossom, Rhydian force a broad smile and laughed. "Yes, I'm just - wow! I didn't realize you guys were thinking - you know! I'm very happy for you. Laura will be too. She loves kids." And then another wave of uneasiness washed over him as he wondered if - or when Laura was going to want kids. Not that he was opposed to being a father, he just . . . Shaking the thought from his mind, he watched the waitress meandered over to check on them. Rhydian waved off her offer to get him something to eat or another beer, knowing he would need to be returning home soon, back to Laura.

"Speaking of Laura, how come we had to learn about your engagement from your dad," Shannon chastised, teasingly.

Rhydian gave a nervous laugh and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess, I'm still processing it."

"You're the one that proposed, right?" Tom joked.

"No, yeah, I proposed. It's just a lot, you know?"

Tom and Shannon traded sideway glances before commencing with their dinner. They continued to catch up, and Rhydian appreciated Tom, and more importantly, Shannon's kindness at not trudging up memories from their time at Bradlington High. It was always a sore spot for him.

Before long, Rhydian said his good-byes and returned to the city. His mind, though, remained on the moors.


	3. Ghosts

Rhydian exited from the black cab and accepted the large duffel bag and camping pack from the driver. He looked over his shoulder, eyeing his younger brother, Bryn, as he took in the tall Victorian-style buildings and rapidly moving cars. Bryn was visibly agitated by the noise of traffic and the school of commuters pushing their way toward the underground entrance to the Tube.

"Hey," Rhydian clapped his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Let's go," he jerked his head toward the building behind him that housed several flats, Rhydian and Laura living on the fourth floor.

Taking the elevator, Rhydian continued to look backward to check his brother didn't bolt like a skittish dog once the doors opened. Rhydian knew it had been a long battle from their mother to convince Bryn to visit his older brother, so not wanting Ceri's effort to haven been in vain, Rhydian forced a smile that was met with skeptical eyes.

Rhydian turned the door knob and held the door open for his brother. Like he was taught, Bryn sniffed the air for an inklings of danger before fully coming inside. Rhydian felt like he was walking on glass, knowing that Bryn still blamed him for the demise of his Wild Wolfblood pack - had it not been for Rhydian showing Jana the ways of the Natural's world, she would have succeeded her father with the same strength, authority, and respect for the old ways that they had lived by for generations.

"The couch pulls out into a bed," Rhydian supplied, dropping his brother's things just inside the door.

Laura came around the corner with outstretched hands. "It's good to meet you, Bryn," she greeted, her smile reaching her eyes. Laura gave him a strong hug as if trying to transfer her cheeriness into him through osmosis. Bryn shot Rhydian a look, bristling under the informal contact. Laura had never met a Wild Wolfblood, so she had no idea how unsavory her actions were considered. Afraid Bryn might do or say something to create an awkward night, Rhydian broke up the hug.

"So, um, Laura and I thought it would be fun to take you out to this great Italian restaurant tonight, and then you and I can catch up tomorrow before you head out to Stoneybridge to see mum and Gerwyn." Rhydian was wringing his hands, as he searched for his brother's approval to the itinerary.

"Uh, yeah," his hands shoved in his pockets, "S-sounds fine."

* * *

Rhydian was moving at a brisk pace, weaving between people as Bryn deftly followed at his heels. Rhydian shouldered passed a slowly moving man in a pinstriped suit, not bothering to apologize because frankly, he didn't care. He didn't want to be bothered with the task he had been issued by his girlfriend.

"I just feel like you are dragging your feet with the wedding planning - purposefully," she said, trying to be quiet, her eyes darting to Bryn who was watching some nature special on the television not far away.

"I'm not!" he whispered. "It's just I don't often see my brother and I'd like not to make him do wedding things."

"It's just dropping off a deposit," she huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "Honestly Rhydian, I've confirmed the caterer, the music, and the hall. It's super important we book him as soon as possible. I'd do this too, myself, but I can't. I have a teacher's in-service all day tomorrow. " She looked back at Bryn and whether he was just trying to be polite or genuinely interested in the wildlife special, he never once looked over at the couple that were huddled in the kitchen area. "Consider it part of his best man duties and he'll get to see more of the city. What better way to spend some quality time than helping his big brother with plan his wedding?" she offered, trying to find a middle ground.

Rhydian rolled his eyes, not fond of his brother being used as a pawn. He grimaced, then blew out an obnoxious sigh. "Fine."

Rhydian looked behind him to see Bryn looking anxious at all the people out and about trying to get to their destination. Thankfully, the flower boutique was just around the corner.

Taking a right at the pastry shop, Rhydian searched for the florist. He glimpsed the old wooden sign that swung from the iron hanging above the flower shoppe, reading Smith's Floral Designs, about halfway down the street. His stomach lurched to one side and he faltered, nearly taking out a petite redhead that happened to be exiting the place. Recovering at the last second, Rhydian caught the woman. "Sorry . . . crack in the pavement."

Looking away ashamed, Rhydian saw from the corner of his eye the woman turn her nose up at him, muttering to herself at how insolent youth was today.

Bryn pointed a thumb behind him, silently imploring for details, but his older brother waved him off. Entering the inside Smith's Floral Designs, he looked about to find it nearly empty.

"So, explain to me the purpose of all this?" he begged, gesturing to the different arrangements of flowers. Large prints hung from the walls, showcasing different bouquets from weddings and other occasions they had been contracted to create. Laura had said they were highly sought after for their beautiful work and reasonable pricing. Though, Rhydian doubted the last part. Nothing was reasonably priced when it came to weddings. Rhydian groaned, and roamed down another aisle. He absently browsed the different bouquets available for purchase.

"So," he started, "would you be my best man for the wedding?"

"What?"

"Uh, it's like a person designated to be the groom's right hand man - he typically plans the bachelor party and stuff . . ."

Bryn looked at him like he had two heads. "Wouldn't Tom be better at that?"

"Um, yeah, maybe, but Laura thought it would be cute if my brother and her sister were best man and maid of honor."

Bryn seemed to be ready to argue another point as to why Tom as a better choice when a young gentleman in a short sleeved, plumb-colored shirt approached. "Mr. Smith is in the back, finishing with another couple. He should be out shortly. You can wait over there," he instructed, pointing to a small sitting area toward the back of the shop. Rhydian jerked his head, silent asking Bryn to follow. Rhydian dragged his hand down his face, fanning himself with the envelope containing the check, he watched his younger brother fidget, like he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. He could hear from down the narrow hall, Mr. Smith agreeing with two people about their selection. Their voices were carrying, growing in volume, a clear sign he would be emerging at any moment. But all that became irrelevant when Rhydian's world came to a grinding halt.

A smell.

A scent.

Rhydian bolted up from his seat. Sniffing the air, his eyes grew twice their size.

An undeniable scent invades his sense, one he would recognize anywhere and knew at his core. "Maddy," he whispered just loud enough to arouse Bryn from his own thoughts and cause him to whirl around to look at his brother.

Rhydian's head swiveled, his bodying turning quickly, eyes hunting for the source of the scent. He needed to be sure that it wasn't false - there! Leaving the shoppe, a woman in a small dark blue peacoat. She was small in stature and had the same dark brown hair, hidden under a knitted cap.

"Maddy," he breathed, his heart seeming to burst. Rhydian bowled over Mr. Smith, who had finally emerged from his office in the back. The older man stumbled back, hollering and shaking his fist at being shoved into the customers behind him. Apologizing over his shoulder, Rhydian escaped the flower shoppe, sputtering to a stop in the middle of the walk. Quickly sniffing the air, he realized she had gone left. Rhydian weaved through the throngs of people, stepping on some's heels and shouldering others as he pushed his way to the other end of the block. Flush with fright he missed her, that she had vanished, or worse - she was nothing but a trick of his mind, he was ecstatic to catch the faintest glimpse of her entering a cab. "No!" He yelled, his hand out stretched as if he could somehow hold the cab where it was parked. His determination doubling, he burst through the lunch crowd leaving the pub at the corner and chased after the transport.

Nearly hit by a rumbling automobile on more than one occasion, not heading any calls of caution by his conscious, Rhydian followed the cab from one end of the city to the outskirts of northern London. Seeing the cab park outside a large hotel, Rhydian slowed about a block away and grabbed his side. He didn't know how long or far he had been following the cab - thank God it didn't do onto the highway. Pressing on, while trying to breath through the side stitch that seemed to be running though him like an electric shock, he finally shuffled into the lobby. Still spent from the chase, he breathed in and caught the scent heading down the right wing of the hotel. Elated to see her holding for the elevator, he touched her shoulder, "Maddy!"

If he wasn't already nauseous, he would have been, as the woman who turned wasn't Maddy. Alarmed, she yelped, jumping back; her hands up, some petals from her bouquet falling freely to the ground.

"I'm sorry," he rushed. "I thought you were an old . . . friend . . . I didn't mean to scare you." His fear dissipated as the woman before him seem to calm down.

"It's quite all right," she cradled the bouquet again and took another relaxing breath. "We all make mistakes." To both of their relief, the elevator opened, and the woman entered.

"Uh," thrusting his arm out to stop the elevator from closing, he caught the uneasy look of its passenger. "May I ask, where you got that? My girlfriend would love somethin' like that." He pointed to her peacoat.

"I bought it as a second hand shop, um, Ms. Laurent's Second Hand Treasures and Antiques," she replied, her eyes landing on the arm preventing her release.

Concerned he may be working on borrowed time before she truly did alert authorities, he said 'thank you' and stepped back into the hallway. Rhydian heard the scuffling of someone trodding to a stop behind him. "Well?"

Rhydian couldn't form the words, they had congealed in his throat, he just simply shook his head and began the long trek back to his apartment.

* * *

Rhydian slunk up to the fourth floor of his loft, in spite of his tired muscles. There was a flash of guilt for forcing Bryn to also bear climbing the stairs, but it prolonged the inevitable shame he was feeling at chasing a stranger all through the city. Not to mention, he was still carrying the check for the florist in his breast pocket.

* * *

Rhydian was unnerved by the normalcy of the night. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure it was real. Laura seemed very pleasant, even after learning Rhydian hadn't dropped off the deposit like she had asked. Bryn, if because he felt slightly more at ease, or was trying to help assuage the tension between his brother and his soon-to-be wife, participated in the conversation, constantly responding with another question to keep the dinner talk going. But, as Rhydian knew all too well, all good things had to come to an end.

Rhydian gave his brother a hug and watched as he was led away in a cab to Stoneybridge. Entering back into his home, he found Laura resting on their sofa, her legs tucked under her, seemingly engrossed in some reality television. "I'm - "

"How many more times are you going to do this?" she cut off, her eyes peering up at him, her face still scrunched in annoyance.

Tucking his hands in his pockets and swaying on his heels, he looked at the floor. "I dunno know," he said quietly. He wanted to swear it wouldn't happen again and that that was the last time; except it was the last time three times ago, and so this time, he just didn't bother. Who was he trying to convince?

She stood, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear, and pulling at her oversize pink jumper that stopped just at the tops of her thighs, perfectly matching to her grey and pink leggings. "I would be livid if I were competing with someone real . . ." Rhydian opened his mouth to argue the realness that is Maddy Smith, but she ever so lightly placed a hand on his chest and he stopped, the words slamming to a halt on the tip of his tongue. "But she's gone . . . whether ethereal or physical, she's not here and for all intents purposes, I'm competing against a - a ghost . . . and I can't do it anymore."

"What do you mean?" Rhydian asked, his shoulders slumping. He started to take off his jacket, when she stopped him.

"Don't bother," she breathed, clearing her throat, "Do you know how stupid I felt asking to making changes to one of the bouquets for the bridesmaids' arrangements only to learn we never booked 'em. To learn that he was no longer available because some else had sent their deposit to reserve him for the same date!"

He faltered, not sure what to say. "I - Laura, I'm really sorry. It was dumb. I know. Listen, we'll find another florist, promise."

"It's not the point, Rhydian. It's what you did more than what you didn't do." She had moved passed him and slipped on her white sneakers. "I don't know what's more pathetic, me waiting for you to figure out what's important or for you to do it."

"I know you were counting on me. I am really, really sorry." Before Rhydian could catch himself, it slipped. "It will never happen again."

Laura whirled around, her eyes focused dangerously on him. "Last time? Like when you flew to the States the night before our anniversary because Jana believed she might be there on some flimsy tip Segolia received. Last time? Like when you left in the middle of our vacation in Disney World two years ago to fly to Denmark because your brother thought he saw her in one of the village markets."

"If I knew she was alive and okay - "

"Then what? What would you do if you found out she was alive? What if we are married . . . had children . . . what would you do?"

Rhydian swallowed what felt like shards of glass that were cutting up his insides. "I - I would . . ."

"Exactly," she said, with a shuttering breath.

"I really do love you!" he finally exploded, following her as she grabbed for her long bomber coat from the entry closet. "Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting Rebecca for drinks." She grabbed her purse and began heading to the door.

"Does she know?"

Her look said it all. She did.

"I'm really sor-"

"Please don't - don't apologize for something you don't mean." After a long pause, she finished, "I do believe you love me, Rhydian. I do. But I also believe a bigger part of you loves her. The question you need to ask yourself, is if she is alive, does she love you the same? I mean, why isn't she here?" Rhydian made to answer, but snapped his mouth shut. Eyeing her ring, she gave a quivering breath and pulled it off.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she placed it in his open palm.

"I can't wear this right now. I need time to think - and I think, you do too." Opening the door, she looked over her shoulder. "I expect you to be gone when I get back," she said somberly.


	4. A Dinner for Dying Dreams

Rhydian shuffled from the tall, pine wardrobe to the twin-sized bed and back, pulling from the hangers some of his white button-down dress shirts he wore at the butcher shop and "neatly" folded them into his grey duffle bag. While he enjoyed the time with his family, he had spent most of it distancing himself in an effort of avoiding a relay of questions as to why he and Laura were "taking a break." The mere idea a couple could still be committed to each other but agree to separation was beyond Ceri's comprehension, so on a daily basis (often during breakfast) she would ask how long a break usually lasted and what their status was. Sometimes, his father would chime in with some half-cocked advice that Rhydian was certain to be more harmful than helpful. Opening the left side of the wardrobe, he pulled out the top draw and began loading some socks, briefs, and white undershirts into the overnight bag. "How long are you going to stare? It's creepy." Rhydian muttered, closing the top draw and moving on to the middle one.

"I'm really sorry, Rhydian," Bryn said from the doorway he was leaning in.

"I just - why?" he sighed, closing the draw roughly, and deciding to neglect the last one in favor of turning to his younger brother.

"I just figured they knew." Bryn had his hands pushed in his pockets. "They're part of your pack. Why would you not tell 'em?"

"Because they never needed to know!" Rhydian shot back, his anger rising. Feeling a need to do something with his hands that wasn't punching a brother in the face, he slid forward the bottom draw.

He could hear the floorboards creek as Bryn carefully entered Rhydian's space . . . a bold move for a Wolfblood. From the corner of his eye, the elder brother caught his younger sibling exhale noisily and rub the back of his head. He swayed, moving his weight from one foot to another in uncertainty.

Bryn wasn't known for his social skills, and often felt uncomfortable when it came to being near Naturals, even though he was familiar with Tom and Shannon. Feeling sorry for Bryn and knowing he would never mean to hurt him, Rhydian's anger began to dissipate like fog early in the morning.

Pulling out the last pair of sweats, he stood to full hilt and dropped them in the duffle bag. Zipping it up, he swallowed the last of his displeasure at the memory of last night's dinner fiasco.

"I've been on many, many wild goose chases looking for Mad - the Smith family, trying to find out what happened to them . . . At some point, you need to know when to call it quits. If you don't, you could lose what is most important to you . . . maybe even yourself." He sighed, dragging his hand down his face as if he screwed his eyes shut hard enough, it would just shut away the whole problem. "I didn't tell anyone because it would have only re-opened old wounds and given 'em false hope." Rhydian couldn't meet his brother's eyes. Memories from when he and Maddy would walk the rim of her family's property, deep in conversation - usually about school or some teenage drama - oh, what he would do for that time back. Clearing his throat, he looked about the room, checking he had everything.

Bryn didn't say anything else about the night. His eyes lingering on the bag. "Where you headed off?"

"I got a text from Laura. We're gonna meet for lunch and then it'll be back to her - our place, yah?"

"So, things are better then?"

Rhydian narrowed his eyes, trying to weed out if Bryn was skeptical or saddened to hear they were reconciling. "Um, no, not yet. But once we talk, she'll see that I have moved on and put this absurd search behind me."

"Right." Bryn's expression hardened as if he was seeing through his brother's soul and Rhydian shifted as if trying to shrug off the hold.

"I need to find mum and dad and let them know I'm heading back to the city." He squeezed passed Bryn who had resumed his leaning in the doorway. "Take care, little brother," he dismissed, clapping him on his shoulder.

* * *

The whir of automobiles as they whizzed through the main streets of the city, commuters jogging to catch the next train would usually grate on Rhydian's nerves, but having lived away from it, there was a novelty he hadn't felt since he first moved in with Laura. An imaginary movie played in his mind - one where she immediately was overcome with emotion at the sacrifice he had made to forgo searching for the Smiths, his devotion to her so strong they race to the chapel and wed immediately, living happily-ever-after. With the chapel bells still swinging and the organ music dancing about behind his eyes, he adjusted the shoulder strap of his duffle bag and quickened his pace. Stopping at a florist on the way, he purchased a lovely bouquet of red roses and as he paid, spotted some business cards. Chatting idly with the young girl at the counter, he accepted a small brochure from her and left.

* * *

"This is perfect," he confirmed to the waiter, the spot was outside at the corner of the street, giving a view to the gardens across the way, the fragrant smells from the blossoming flowers wafting gently to them. The umbrella overhead perfectly shaded them from the harsh glare of the sun. Additionally, he could carefully stow his duffle bag behind the tall cement planter behind him. While he felt confident about mending their relationship and picking up where they had left off, he didn't want to come across as arrogant.

For once, the cafe they agreed on was casual dress. While he enjoyed watching Laura have a grand time at the luxurious places that required a jacket and tie, the dress code made him itch and he always felt watched - which was often true.

A gentle breeze crossed and Rhydian could feel Spring trying to break through the tingling wall that was winter. The waiter returned and placed two menus in front, asking if Rhydian wanted to place his drink order. Nervous to make any wrong moves, he shook his head and elected to wait for his ex-girlfriend to arrive. Relaxing at the beauty of the gardens on the other side, he adjusted some of the silverware as he laid the cloth napkin across his lap. Allowing his mind to wander as he waited, it slowly descended to the dinner he had a week ago with his family and friends. _In an effort to cheer Rhydian up, Ceri had invited Jana, Tom, and Shannon to dinner. Going above and beyond, she prepared a vast spread, including more Natural dishes than usual and ensuring everything was thoroughly and properly cooked._  
Rhydian hummed, looking up and down the street for signs of a tall, fit, blonde coming to meet him. A small voice inside his head sneered, laughing that he was being stood up. Shaking his head, not wanting the voice to grow or more importantly, be true, he sank back into last week's dinner fiasco.

_The dinner had started a little rough as often happens when Bryn is included. After leaving the pack as a youngster, not even able to fully transform, Bryn eventually landed in Denmark, having found a Wild Wolfblood Pack that was less progressive and stuck closer to the old ways. Yet, once a year, Bryn made a trip to visit his mother and brother. He was still warming to Gerwyn, his transgressions not so easily forgiven. So any social situation that was devoid of Wolfblood tradition always put Bryn on edge and therefore everyone else. However, the gained experience of knowing a Wolfblood (wild or tame), Shannon and Tom allowed for Bryn to warm up to them in his own time by oddly enough ignoring him._

"It was going so well," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with both hands.

"Was it?" Came a feminine voice. Startled by her arrival, he clumsily tried to stand but she shush him, her cheeks reddening as others began to stare. She gestured for him to sit as she did herself, and Rhydian mentally cursed himself as he wanted to pull her chair out like a gentleman.

"I'm glad you're here. I was worried - "

"That I wouldn't show? Can't imagine how that feels."

Rhydian winced at the sting of her words and cleared his throat, looking down at his empty plate.

Drumming his fingers on the table, shifting through mental note cards he had created to make the lunch perfect, he jumped to the flowers he had laying, hidden behind him. Catching a glimpse of the duffle bag, he felt suddenly foolish for having packed it. If the first few moment were anything to go by, he would be returning to his parents' home tonight.

"I bought these for you?" Handing her the flowers, he quickly extracted the a small business card and brochure from his back jean pocket. "I also picked these up." He placed them gently in front of her.

"What are these?"

Her mouth left agape as he wasn't sure if she was being serious because it was clear what they were. "Um," he mumbled. Seeing the server return, his side swept brown locks getting in his eyes, the young man nearly collided with their table. He smiled at them, prepared to take their order, but Rhydian wasn't sure he still had an appetite.

Laura ordered a simple chicken Caesar salad, while Rhydian ordered a double cheese burger and fries, feeling a glutton as the two plates were dropped in front of them no much later. Though, he was happy for the quick service as not much had been exchanged between the two of them.

Silence continued as they munched on their meals, Rhydian searching for any sign that Laura was enjoying her food . . . or anything. Peering up every few seconds as he eagerly awaited for her to take the lead, not wanting to feel pushy. He had devoured the remainder of his burger and was halfway through his fries, when he he came to the conclusion he was going to be have to be the one to break the silence. "Uh," Rhydian began, "I would like to get back together. A last chance."

"Don't you mean second chance?"

He chuckled, "No, I mean a last chance, because I only ask for one more. It's all I need, I swear."

Laura tilted her head, as if considering each word's validity. "Rhydian, I just don't know . . . You seem awfully cocky about this and that leads me to believe this is just a show."

Reaching over for her hand, but stopped as she pulled away. "I am terribly sorry. I can't understand what it must feel like." Except, he did. He knew what it felt like, to want something that it ached. "I want to try again, we can start - "

"This isn't a video game, Rhydian," she snapped, looking around quickly. "You can't just pick up where we left off." She seemed to remember the business card and brochure and upon seeing the pictures of weddings marketed on the front, rolled her eyes. Pointing at him with the brochure, she responded exasperated, "Really?"

Rhydian leaned back in his chair, this wasn't going how he had planned. "I just thought . . ." He sighed, realizing he may have - he _definitely_ overstepped - with trying to find a new florist for a wedding he wasn't sure would happen. "What would you like, Laura? You had to have some idea of what I was looking for when I asked you out to lunch." He discarded his napkin in a huff, so it lay crumbled on his plate.

"Actually, I was half expecting you to tell me you found Maddy and are getting married," she quipped.

Rhydian smiled, but he wasn't sure as to why. He let out a long sigh. "I haven't searched for her, at all. I really meant it when I said I put the search behind me. I've accepted that I may never find her or know what happened." He watched some cars pass and waited as their server checked in with them. "I . . ." his voice lowered to such a quiet whisper that Laura needed to lean in, "I may have even lost my friends over it . . . But, I really do believe in us."

It was clear his statement caught her off guard, as her jaw nearly hit the table, "What happened?" she asked. "What do you mean lost your friends?"

_They had been divining in, chatting about current events, what was going on, the baby what was on its way. It was just what Rhydian needed to take his mind off the recent separation. Heck, even Tom only had to poke his wife once in the shoulder not to press Rhydian about the abrupt break up with his fiancee. Feeling lighter than hen had in days, he stood to help his mother clear the table for dessert. It was at that moment - with one question - that everything seemed to spiral into chaos. In hindsight, he wondered if he it would have been better to let Shannon just pester him leaving Bryn with nothing more to do but listen. Sadly, with no one to really to really act as a blockade for Bryn, he was left defenseless like a baby fawn. As Rhydian pulled some small dishes from the cupboard, he could see Jana turn to his younger brother, smiling as she asked, "How did you like the city?" It was a simple question, really. Nothing in itself malicious - but all too honest, it was the unforeseen key to Pandora's Box. Bryn answered that he could not live there himself, but found the experience informative as to how Naturals lived and would bring what he had learned back to his pack to help them understand the world outside better. He could have ended it there, but Rhydian supposed he felt uncomfortable by the staring and deemed it necessary to continue to talk. And so Bryn added hastily that what he enjoyed most was chasing Rhydian through the city as it reminded him of their time together when they were younger. At this Rhydian, let the last plate drop into the sink with a crash._

"Wait," Laura cut off, holding her hand up to stop him. At this, the server returned to pour her coffee and leave a small container of creamer. "So, Bryn . . . ." With a pause, she added, "Am I missing something? What's so horrible about what he said?"

Groaning as he didn't really want to relive it, he explained. "Much like you, Jana didn't quite understand, so she followed up her question with another." At this, Laura made an 'oh' with her mouth as understanding struck like a ton of bricks. "Bryn went on to explain that he had chased me because I was chasing a woman I believed was Maddy. That answer then led to Shannon asking why I had thought the woman was Maddy, and before I could stop it, the whole thing blew up," he finished, pounding the table with his fist so the cups rattled. "Why did you think it was her?" "What?" Rhydian looked at her confused, wondering why she cared.

"Why did you think it was her?"

Caught off guard, he fumbled to answer. Taking a slow sip of water to gather his composure, he nonchalantly replied. "Her scent. It was on the long cover the woman was wearing or somethin'." He looked away for a second, remembering the shock of seeing - not Maddy - but a stranger.

When he looked back across the table, he was surprised to see her looking right back at him. Instead of the harden facade she had been wearing was sympathy and sorrow. "You never said you smelled her scent. You just told me you just thought it was her," she filled-in in a quiet voice.

"Oh, yeah, well, either way . . . it wasn't her," he said with a shrug.

"So, Bryn told the truth and you're mad at him? Seems a little unfair to him."

"I'm not mad!"

Laura folded her arms, and gave him an incredulous look.

"I'm not mad . . . much," he repeated somberly. "It's just that it was going so well until . . ."

"Want to talk about it?"

_Shannon shot up to her feet with remarkable speed for someone who was entering her second trimester of pregnancy. Slamming her hands down on the table, "You had no right to withhold that information. We have lost valuable ti- "_

_"We didn't lose anything because we're not looking for her. It's over. No more," Rhydian snarled, the plates clattering as he set them down on the counter and approached the table._

_"What was the name of the place that she got it from?" Shannon asked, her attention redirected back to Bryn, who looked to be growing ever more paler by the second._

_"I . . . I don't . . ."_

_"That's enough," he commanded, pausing to look at everyone. Ceri was still holding the cake mid-transit from the kitchen to the table. Gerwyn looked from Shannon and Rhydian, still chewing the last of dinner. "We need to stop," Rhydian said more calmly. "She's not coming back. We need to let this die. For everyone's sanity and future."_

_"You mean, let her die," Shannon said in a trembling voice. Rhydian gulped watching stray tears escape from under his friend's thick rimmed glasses. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, he needed to be strong. He was their Alpha and as such, needed to do what was best for them all, even if they couldn't see it._

_"So, that's it," Tom began in a small voice. "You decide what we all do, just like that?" he said with a snap of his fingers. Looking from his wife to his best friend, Tom suggested, "I think . . . I think we all just need to step back and - "_

_Shaking his head, "No, not this time. No more. It's time to bury it, mate. We've got to move on, bigger things are happening," he reminded Tom, gesturing to his unborn child that was expected to make his or her grand entrance later that year._

_Jana stood, and Bryn who was seated between them seemed transfixed where he looked like he wanted to leave but couldn't communicate such a wish to his muscles. The energy seemed electric and it felt as if an infinite amount of possibilities could explode from the next few seconds. "Rhydian, regardless of your feelings or wishes, this is a Segolia matter - "_

_"One that was thoroughly mishandled," he interjected. "It's a closed case - a cold case - and I doubt they want to waste anymore time tracking down flimsy leads. Isn't that what they told you? Warned you to drop it or it would effect your consideration with them for better opportunities." He could tell by the way her nose twitched he had struck a nerve._

_Ceri delicately set down the cake. "Perhaps if we take some time - "_

_"No . . . no more time. The search is over."_

_The silence was overwhelming, seeming to fill every crevice of the old farmhouse._

_"It's not the only thing that's over," Shannon answered. Squeezing passed her husband, they watched her leave without saying anything further._

_"Thanks for the lovely dinner," Tom said toward Ceri and Gerwyn, haphazardly collecting his wife's purse and his jacket that were hanging from the back of the chairs._

_Rhydian could feel Jana's glare boring into him, but he refused to look at her, his eyes fixed on Tom's retreating form._

_"Jana," Tom called from the door, his eyes darting outside to where Rhydian was sure Shannon was pacing by the car, mumbling to herself._

_Jana looked as if she wanted to say more, maybe threaten him, but she simply turned away from him, her hair whipping about, causing Rhydian to flinch. She patted Bryn's shoulder, murmuring something along the lines of having enjoyed seeing him before following the same path Shannon used, sidling passed Tom as he held the door open for her._

_Rhydian watched her go, his eyes falling on his best mate, whose face was a mix of pity and disappointment. Nodding to the group of remaining Wolfbloods, Tom gently closed the door behind him._

"What the hell were you thinking?" Laura blurted out.

"Funny, it's exactly what my father said . . . albeit a little nicer," he muttered, clasping his hands and leaning his forehead on them. "I thought you'd be impressed that I finally let it go."

Laura laughed in a way that was clear to Rhydian she felt otherwise. She opened her mouth but quickly closed it. She rested her head in her hands and sighed. It was quiet and Rhydian was certain he would be taking the black cab back to the farm.

"What are you doing for the full moon tonight?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "It's been kind of tense . . . you know?"

"I'm probably . . ." She stopped to look out at the passing cars, smiling the way she did on their first date and he spilt his drink on her because he was so nervous. Turning back to him, the warmth of her smile seemed to have found refuge in her eyes, "Would you like to join us, my pack . . . tonight?"

"Really?"

"No one should be left to traverse the moon alone, not even an idiot like you."

Rhydian's smile fell, but he was still relieved.

"I have some things to do before tonight, so we can meet at our usual spot up at the park that's located on the edge of the city, okay?"

Realizing it wasn't quite the invitation he had been hoping for, he nodded, quickly wondering what he'd do with the duffle bag he had packed. "Tonight. See you then," he agreed.

He stood as she did, but shuffled- stepped when she merely waved instead of hugging as she usually did when leaving. Dodging an awkward moment, the server swooped in to check they were both not leaving. While Rhydian took care to assure him they were not doing a "dine n' dash", he sat back down while the check was retrieved and paid for the meal.

* * *

Remembering his gym membership, he stored the travel bag in his locker and walked about the city until it turned dark. Ignoring the peculiar look from the driver, as they pulled up to the deserted park, the last rays of light illuminating the trees behind him, he quickly paid and saluted him. Jogging up the trails that had been long abandoned, he kept looking back to see if it was all clear. With the taxi just a dot in the growing darkness, Rhydian transformed into his wolf-form and headed north to meet Laura and her pack. He could already hear their howls in the distance. Racing across the hills, leaping over fallen trees, he pushed hard with each step, knowing this was his moment to show her how committed he was and finally prove what their relationship was worth to him.


	5. Sever

Rhydian blinked, his vision blurry. It felt as if time had slowed, he could hear his own shallow breathing and the rustling of some woodland creatures scampering behind him. The day was cloudy, as if a child had painted the sky with different shades of grey. Rhydian swayed, in an attempt to roll to his side, but immediately regretted the action as sharp pain radiated from his hips to his knees and his stomach cramped in such a violent way, worry flashed across his face that he might just vomit. Grimacing, he tried again. Growling through the pain, he used the momentum of his teetering to prop himself on his elbow. With another surge of determination, he shakily moved to a sitting position. Hunched over, and holding himself tight, he felt his biceps burn. If he had been looking in a mirror, he would have been mortified at the man staring back, his face caked with mud, his lips a deep chestnut from having eaten the still hardened earth. Flexing his jaw, he was edging toward crying out, but resisted as he didn't want to alert anyone nearby, having no clue as to where he was or how he got there.

Looking beside him was a large hole, messily dug. Turning over his hands, he found his nails chipped and his fingers stained with blood. Curling his toes, he shuddered. While he couldn't see them, he was certain they were mangled and cut. "Where am I?" he whispered, his throat unnaturally sore.

Hesitating to try sniffing the air around him, he finally acquiesced as he most definitely needed to know where he was currently. It smelled of mold, harsh and wet. It was dirt, still thawing from the unrestrained winter mixed with fallen pine. He snorted, flecks of crud shooting from his nostrils. On his second attempt of breathing in, his eyebrows knitted together, "Stoneybridge."

 _How'd I get here?_ He carefully examined his surroundings, and confirmed his guess, he was deep in the woods of Stoneybridge, maybe seven - eight miles from the edge of his family's home. He heaved and spit some more dirt out, missing the ground, he caught the bottom of his pants. Scrambling to come up with any memories how he managed to travel from the city back to the rolling outskirts of the quaint town, he came up short. It felt as if the answers were locked away, tauntingly close, but just out of his reach. As he slowly moved to all fours, and steadied himself, one foot planting itself firmly to the crunchy ground, he looked up and saw what had been haunting him, looming right behind.

The buried case.

Shuffling as he tested his balance, he looked from the hole to the stained leather trunk that looked menacing in the chilly March morning. Rhydian shakily reached a hand out and gently pushed on the trunk as if he expected to go through it like some type of mirage. It's not possible, he told himself.

It was then he noticed the dull ache in his jaw again, and the copper taste in his mouth, looking down at his jeans, there was a crimson flecks from when he had tried to spit. He touched his mouth and found it was bleeding the same shade that colored the buckles that were still clasped. At some point, unable to bite through them, he must have bit through the leather belts. Staring back at him was the very treasures he tried to bury and forget.

Rhydian wanted to scream but couldn't. Run but couldn't. Before he could stop it, stinging tears rolled down his filthy face.

Unable to gain anything more from staying, and knowing he needed help, he edged closer and carefully - against every muscle's will - carried the chest back with him to his parents' home.

* * *

Upon seeing the small garden that was recently tilled, he couldn't verbalize the immense joy he felt. The walk had been excruciating, and while he was angry at himself for running back home, running that distance in one night, blacking out, and digging that damn trunk up, he was thrilled to have not buried it any farther because he was sure he wouldn't have made it.

"Rhydian!" yelped Ceri, who had been preparing lunch when Rhydian helplessly dragged himself into the kitchen from the back door. He dropped the trunk unceremoniously onto the dining table, the contents rattling noisily inside. Flopping into the nearest chair, he closed his eyes, exhausted.

He could feel his mother quickly turn the knobs of the gas stove off and rush to him, her finger tips soft, but palms still hardened from working the garden and just keeping with some of the older ways of doing things. She touched his face and turned over his hands. He could hear the second to bottom step creak under her weight as she rush upstairs to retrieve her vials of Wild Wolfblood remedies.

She seemed to have collected a litany of supplies as he heard her lay out several bowls, the light thud of towels - he could still smell the lavender detergent they were washed in - and the unwrapping of the tattered leather-bound casing of different herbs and salves. "Who did this?" she pled, a warm rag gently pressed to his face and moved from his nose to his temples as she tried to wipe the dirt and blood from him.

"I did," he answered so quietly it was more mouthed than said.

"What?" she asked, her mind clearly more on his well-being than the conversation.

"I think . . ." he began more clearly, "I was the one that did this to myself."

He felt his mother still under his response, but just as quickly hasten to continue cleaning his face. Opening his eyes, he watched his mother pour something greenish with the consistency of pea soup into two soup bowls and place his hands in them to soak.

"Anything else hurt?" Her forehead was beaded with little droplets of perspiration and she dabbed at them distractedly with the back of her hand.

"My muscles feel as if they are on fire, and . . . " He thought of his feet, but if everything else could be looked at and treated, he would worry about them later. In truth, he just couldn't muster the energy to take the boots off. The less movement the better. "My muscles," he reiterated.

* * *

Rhydian sighed, he had been sitting in silence for some time as his mother left to hang the laundry on the line before returning to her cooking of lunch. Ceri found him where she left him, sitting, staring out the window with a pensive look on his face.

"Rhydian, I am your mother and I want to know what happened."

There was a hard look in her eyes that said he was not going to talk his way out of it or pull rank on her. With greater effort than he'd like, he let out a sigh and nodded his head slowly to show he wasn't going to put up a fight. "All I can say, is I think I'm the one that hurt myself. Though, I thought most Wolfbloods healed under the effects of a full moon."

"Not if they've been in a battle, it wouldn't have time, but you weren't in a fight," she commented, the last part sounding more a question than an affirmation.

"I . . . I can't remember a thing from last night." He looked at her imploringly for answers. "Has that ever happened before where a Wolfblood blackouts during a full moon?"

Ceri wrung her hands on the dish towel she was holding and looked from the large pot on the stove top, where a beef stew was simmering, to her son. "What do you have in there?" She pointed to the filthy chest perched in the center of her dining table. He gave a small jerk of his head, wincing at the movement, but unable to say anything. Ceri leaned over, throwing back the lid that speckled dry dirt about the clean table. She pulled out some items, his framed drawings of Maddy and he, a ticket from the local cinema, and a broken bracelet from a dance. She peered in, quickly taking in the remnants still inside.

Without needing to be probed, he offered, "I thought it was time to move on and to do so, I buried everything that tied back to that part of my life."

"That was a part of Maddy," she clarified. Feeling unbearably guilty as if he had buried her alive, all he could do was look away.

"I thought it would help me, make it final . . . I don't know . . ." he resigned with a sigh. Wiping his hands on a hand towel she left for him, he patted his hands absentmindedly. "I don't know a lot. Like what happened the last twelve hours."

Ceri considered the items in her hands, gently wiping the smudge on frame's glass. His coat sleeves were tattered and blanketed in debris, his entire backside damp from resting in the woods.

"I know you said it was time to move on . . ." Rhydian groaned at his mother's words, feeling a lecture percolating. She gave him a warning look and continued, "But I think . . . what you are trying to achieve is dangerous. This _moving on_ ," she sucked in a breath as if burned by the words, themselves, "It feels like it is doing more harm than good and . . ." her silence was unnerving like what she was coveting were so dangerous if merely said would cause irreversible damage and could not be contained.

He wanted to remind her that moving on was challenging, but once accepted by everyone, they would all be better. But he didn't get to voice any of it as as he heard voices in the distance, his father's and Bryn's.

He could see them walking the stone path that was slowly disappearing back into the ground like old runes.

"I need rest," he announced, rising gingerly from the table.

"You need a bath," she added, raising one eyebrow.

Letting way a nervous chuckle, "Right . . . shower then rest."

"Then dinner," she finished. Rhydian nodded, his mother blowing a kiss to him as if afraid she gave him one on the cheek he'd crumble.

* * *

Rhydian skewered another piece of steak and angrily bit down on it, grimacing at the immediate pain it brought. It came as no surprise that Laura didn't respond to his texts or calls nor had she sent any.

At some point while he was napping some one - his mother probably - had returned the small trunk to his bedroom. Yet, Rhydian couldn't stop starring at the corner of the table to which he dropped it several hours earlier. The evidence it had ever been in the kitchen had been cleaned after he had left to shower, yet, it felt as if the time capsule was ever present, joining them for supper. As if realizing he wasn't eating alone, he looked to his family. It was incredibly silent, awkwardly so, and Rhydian had no reservation that he was the reason. He gleaned a quick look at his father who seemed to be in a heavy conversation with his mother communicated only through quick glances at each other. Turning to his right, he jumped at the fact Bryn was staring at him, his brother's gaze boring into him as if he was judging his very character right then. Rhydian finished swallowing and quietly excused himself. As he entered the small hallway that led to his bedroom, he could hear them whispering.

Closing the door to hamper the sound of his family's discussion, Rhydian ventured over to the simple pine desk and opened the trunk again. Delicately he began unpacking the contents. He had only extracted a few items when there was a light wrapping at his door. Before he could answer, the visitor had let himself in. "'Ey," Gerwyn greeted. "Got a few?"

Rhydian gestured to the bed, pulling the desk chair out and sitting in it backwards. He rested his forearms on the high-back of it, and then laid his head on top of his arms. Gerwyn hesitated then saddled himself up to the side of the bed and grabbed for his ankle, tucking his leg in toward himself.

"Uh . . . " the older man began, pulling off his tweed cap to scratch his messy hair before returning his hat to his head. "Your mum and I been talkin', yah?" He cleared his throat. "What you went 'n told us - that just isn't natural, son."

"Yeah, I know that. Most people don't just lose their memory for twelve hours and during that time traverse a day's drive into the woods of some little town," he snorted, rolling his eyes.

"No, I mean . . . Wolfbloods don't have memory lapses, Rhydian," he clarified, and oddly the tone unnerved the Bradlington High graduate more than the actual statement.

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother would be more apt to explain this, it's more her thing to carry such understanding of the old ways."

As if on cue, Ceri floated into the room, startling both men. "I'm worried, Rhydian."

"But, why?"

"I don't think you had am-knee-she-ah," Ceri attempted, struggling to remember the Natural's term for memory loss. "What you described, I only read about in old tomes from the Elder of our Wild Wolfblood pack." She grimaced, clasping her hands. "I think your Wolf took over and an overtake such as this, for that long - is serious, love."

"Wha - what do you mean?" Rhydian asked, his voice rising.

"Wolfbloods who are at odds with themselves in where the human part of them and the wolf part of them are set on two different paths, will sever."

"Split apart?" He shot up and hissed at the knee-jerk reaction. He wanted to counter that her source was written by a people that believed in humans being the enemy and to be afraid of indoor plumbing, but he resisted because as his mother's eyes watered, she looked to have more to expound on him. "You can't - that . . . How are there two of me, I can't split myself in two."

Ceri shook her head. "You're right, one of you will lose - must lose."

"So what happens then?" He really didn't want to know, but he also didn't want to find out the hard way.

"Either you'll lose your mind to the Wolf, or you'll lose your Wolfblood abilities and become a Natural."

Rhydian sunk back onto the bed, suddenly struggling for air. He couldn't figure out if there was a lesser evil - to lose your mind and become the Wolf entirely ,or lose your abilities as a Wolfblood. To have that happen, would be like cutting off his right arm and carrying it around to taunt him of what he had. He let his head fall into his hands, "God, why me?"

As if the ultimatum wasn't bad enough, he definitely couldn't have a relationship with Laura if either happened - if that was even a possibility still.

"How do I fix it before I black out again and wind up in Canada?" he groaned, missing the glances exchanged by his parents.

"You have to figure out what has you fighting with yourself and resolve it . . . because the next time might be the last time."

Rhydian felt his stomach spasm and contort, her ominous words not missed. He had month.

* * *

It was rounding midnight and the only reason he knew the time was by the position of the moon. He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face with his hands roughly. He sat up, the bed sagging under his weight, and looked about. He launched to his feet and paced for a minute or two before his eyes landed yet again - for the umpteenth time - on the desk that had his treasures messily unpacked on it. He sat back down on at the desk chair, his one arm looped around the back of it, as he clutched a framed picture of Maddy and he sitting at the green tables in the courtyard of their former high school. They were looking at each other, apparently in one of their many long talks. The wind was docile that day, and the sky the bluest of blues. He ached to jump through the thin glass and relive that moment.

The rustling of the door knob being twisted, pulled Rhydian from his reverie as he watched Bryn step inside. He was mostly through when he paused and knocked in a disjointed way. Rhydian sighed, at least he was trying to remember some of the manners he had watched of Tame Wolfbloods.

"Rough day," he started with a chortle.

Rhydian didn't placate at the attempt at humor and instead scowled.

Snatching the frame from his older brother. Bryn stared at it, as if searching for something greater within it. "I liked Maddy," he said offhandedly.

"No, you didn't!" Rhydian shot from his chair, careful to keep the pain of the movement hidden. "You were more than glad that I had left Stoneybridge."

"Yeah, but it really had nothin' to do wit' Maddy, you know?"

Rhydian extended his hand, wanting the picture back, his anger rising, watching his younger brother nonchalantly walk about his room like he owned it.

"She was pretty, not exotic-like, just pretty. From my understanding in crossing paths with Alric, she was a strong Alpha, not to be underestimated."

"Picture. Now," Rhydian commanded, gesticulating with his proffered hand for the item to be returned.

Not phased by the sudden ruffling of Rhydian's fur, Bryn quietly handed it back.

"What did you come in here for?" His anger simmering as he was relieved to have the picture returned.

Bryn's eyes rolled around the room, seeming to soak up every fissure where the foundation was settling and the walls were cracking, every speck of dust, and the gentle sway of the bushes outside the window. "I want to help."

Rhydian swallowed the insult lingering in his mouth and forced his nerves to settle. "I don't know how you can. I don't know if I can even help myself out right now."

"Sure, you can. You're no weakling. You're just a coward."

The word hadn't fully left Bryn's mouth, before Rhydian was face to face, mere inches between them, glowering. Yet, Bryn, who in his later years had a growth spurt and was slightly taller than Rhydian, didn't budge a millimeter. "Take it back," Rhydian demanded between clenched teeth.

"No," he returned with just as much intensity. Time seemed to pass slowly, and the only sound was the loud swallowing by Rhydian. "You are not going to hit me because I am right." The was a deadly silence that filled the room and seemed to squeeze itself in the little space between the brothers. "More importantly, you are lying to yourself about the reason you are having the blackouts." His face softening, worry starting to puddle in his dark, chestnut irises. "Let me help. I don't want to lose my brother more than I have already," Bryn finished. It felt like his heart seized up, and it took a second before Rhydian could process anything. Slowly he nodded, returning to the desk chair that was left vacant. "We need to find out what happened to Maddy. Good or bad," Bryn said aloud, bringing to light the very thing Rhydian wished desperately to keep hidden away.

"How? It's been ten years."

"With help." Bryn reached behind Rhydian and handed him his cellphone. "Call the Na - Shannon," he instructed, pointing at the device. Rhydian took the phone reluctantly from Bryn, and started scrolling for Shannon's name in his phonebook. "Grovel, if you have to," Bryn clarified, as if it was needed.

Rhydian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Bryn. I got it, mate." And he did. Though, groveling would be the least he would probably have to do, if he wanted help and possibly forgiveness from the one, Shannon Kelly-Okanawe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm currently working on Chapter 6. I hope to have it completed and posted soon.


	6. Lancaster

Rhydian felt like an intruder standing outside the door he once entered and exited on a daily basis just weeks ago. After not receiving a single response to his text or voicemail messages, he traveled into the city and walked up the four flights to the third door on the right of the hall. He knocked, placing his hands on his hips and blowing out an exasperated sigh. Combing his fingers through his blond hair, he looked up at the ceiling. Did he really expect her to answer? It was clear she didn’t want to talk or be with him. Just as he was about to turn around, tail between his legs, he heard the door open behind him. Standing in the doorway, he took in the less than glamorous look of his ex-girlfriend. Clearing his throat, he greeted her. Laura’s hair was in a messy bun, her normal effortless look, lackluster and plan. She was adorned in comfortable flannel lounge pants, and oversized t-shirt with her state college imprinted on the tee. Her eyes were puffy, and her skin didn’t have the same glow, but was muted and sullen.

She half-heartedly gestured for him to enter and Rhydian slinked inside as would a child ready to be reprimanded. Spinning on his heels, “I’m - ”

She raised a hand. “Don’t.”

“No, this - this was out of my control. Honest.”

Laura crossed the loft to perch herself on the arm of their living room sofa.She rubbed her hands back and forth on her pants, looking up at Rhydian, her body folding in on itself, as if succumbing to the weight of holding up their crippling relationship. He cleared his throat again, and drew a small circle in the area rug with the toe of his sneaker. He felt selfish for wanting to keep it alive, but if he could just get over this hurdle, it had to get easier.

“Rhydian,” she breathed as if it took such effort. “I don’t think you're nothing but honest. I think you genuinely feel you know what the hell is going on . . .” she sucked in a breath, “but I don’t think you really do.”

“I blacked out.”

The way her her head quickly rose up to meet his eyes, skepticism etched on her face.

“I’m serious.” He inched closer, feeling like it was safe. This was, after all, her place now. “I transformed last night at the park as planned and the next morning, I was in Stoneybridge.”

“Rhydian - ”

“You can ask my family. My mother had to fix me up.” Rhydian bristled, realizing he had said too much. He didn’t want to give up details of what he had been doing, but it was too late.

“Fix . . . you . . . up? What were you doing out there that you got hurt?”

His throat was closing, suddenly swallowing just to keep it open. “I . . . I . . .” He didn’t need to supply her a minute-by-minute playback of that day.

She laughed. It was high pitched, almost haughty.“Of course, why am I not surprised . . . Maddy,” she conceded, nodding her head in some discovered understanding.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“No, it’s not.”

“No, it is,” he insisted. This was not how he had expected this to go. Leaving on an impulse to speak with her and understand where they stood - many scenarios played in his head, but his being this forthcoming was not one of them. Sliding into the armchair next to him, he leaned on his knees, “You may want to take a _real_ seat.”

If he was going to retell the story, he wasn’t going to hold back, and so he disclosed everything - perhaps more than he had recounted to any of his family. It was silent as he finished. He couldn’t look at her, so instead he fixated on the coasters that were stacked on the coffee table. He leaned forward and picked them up, letting each one plop into a stack in his other hand, shuffling them back and forth.

“Rhydian,” she called, her voice feeling far away. He looked at her, watching slowly cross the space toward him. Taking the coasters from his hand to place back on the table, she cupped his cheek, and for a second he thought they would kiss, something he desperately missed; instead, her hand fell away as she took Rhydian’s hands in hers. “You need to follow this . . . wherever this takes you.” There was something like hurt or acceptance, or both bellying her words.

“I still want to get back together.”

She nodded, her lip trembling. “I know you do. I wanted to, too, but .. .”

The exhilaration he felt overcome him, receded in seconds as he watched Laura slowly rise and move to the kitchenette. She opened the top cupboard and extracted some tea leaves to pour in her tea infuser.

Rhydian tapped his fingers on his knees before joining her at the small island. “So, what are we?” He needed to hear it.

“Separated.”

“I - ”

“Rhydian, you can’t expect me to go along with this. You tell me you are having black outs, you may lose your mind or your abilities! And . . . and it all may - is related to Maddy.” The kettle whistled behind her and she turned off the gas and poured herself a cup, the metal ball bobbing under the sudden surge of piping hot water.

“I can’t,” she choked. “I thought. I tried. But it’s inescapable - she’s inescapable. Your bond . . .” She turned away to collect herself. “If you need someone to talk to .. . I’ll . . . “ she paused, grimacing. “Actually,” having reconsidered whatever she was about to offer, “just don’t.”

“Laura . . .” The rest die in his mouth. She grabbed a spoon from the draw behind her and carefully set the ball on a saucer. She cleared her throat and walked to the front door, opening it wide. “I think you should go.”

Rhydian does as asked, stepping through to the chilly hallway, the window at the end left wide open. Looking back at her, “I’m going to show you. I want this to work.”

Laura’s eyes are watering and he knows she’s using every ounce of her resolve to not let a single tear fall. She closes her eyes, swallows, and then opens her eyes again. “Goodbye, Rhydian Morris.” The door clicked shut and he’s standing in the drafty corridor by himself. His knuckles were inches from knocking again, wanting her to re-open the door and explain - impress upon her how much he was going to make this work. But rather than wrapping on the steel door, he backed up, silently vowing to show her. He would return, and sweep her off her feet. He would figure out what happened, solve the mystery, and return to her. He would return.

* * *

Rhydian looked left then right before crossing the street to meet atMcCardle’s. The last time he had paid the place a visit was on assuredly better terms. It was raining, puddles forming like magic around the uneven brick road. The streetlamp that stood forlorn in front of the pub did a lackluster job of providing any sight. The yellow, warm, incandescent light emanating from inside did the job, and Rhydian found himself entering a surprisingly crowded pub. _Is everyone in town out tonight?_ He thought miserably, shaking his coat free of still dribbling rain drops. Stepping further inside he found Tom and Shannon seated toward the back, in a secluded corner. Whether done on purpose or by chance, he was relieved they would have some privacy - if it was even possible. Pushing his way through he throng of patrons, he slid into the booth unapologetically.

Tom was sitting on the end, and he was most thankful as Shannon looked ready to bolt as he settled in. She gave an exasperated sigh, and shot a not-so-discreet glare at her husband. “Let me sit next to you, Shan. It will be romantic . . . ‘Romantic’ my arse,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, so they rested on her growing stomach.

Tom sighed and gave a pointed look at his best pal as if to punctuate the difficulty and risk of having arranged this meeting. “You can’t avoid him forever, plus he’s got something to say.”

“Like what? How he’s a giant prat? A back-stabbing traitor? And - ”

“Actually,” he interjected, knowing it would only get worse - and not undeserved either. “You’re right. About it all. I’m sorry and I mucked things up. Our friendship - ( _my promise, he thought) -_ I should have told you and we figured it out together, just as we always have. I,” he paused, looking out the window to watch a couple dart from their car to a restaurant across the way, a futile attempt of escaping the unrelenting rain. Returning his focus on his friends, he finished quietly, “ I shouldn’t have tried to hide this or make a decision that impacts everyone. I’m really sorry.” He looked from Tom and then Shannon, hoping she would agree to see their fight as water under the bridge. The waitress, a cheery blonde that reminded him of Laura bounded up to the table to take their drink orders. Barely able to articulate, Tom translated as Rhydian was beside himself at how closely she resembled his ex-fiancee. “How’s things with you and Laura?” Tom asked, his finger tracing the knot in the wood table.

“Miserable . . . I mucked that up too.” At this point, it was nearly all said and done.

Tom nodded, “Sorry, mate.”

He sighed, turning his attention back to Shannon. Her lips still pulled taunt in a line, Rhydian was sure his plea had fallen on deaf ears. “Well, you didn’t come here empty handed now did ya?”

Doing a double-take, he eyed Shannon, wondering if he really heard her speaking to him or if it was a cruel trick of his imagination. “Well?” she pushed.

He shook his head like an invalid at a loss for words. “Oh, um, the woman . . . she - she said Ms. Laurent’s Second Hand Treasures and Antiques,” Rhydian supplied, his shoulders relaxing at the understanding that while Shannon may not have been in a forgiving mood, she was not one to walk away from finding the truth.

* * *

After dedicating several days to searching for the antiques shop, Shannon had come up empty handed. Leading her to accuse Rhydian of lying. It had taken multiple phone calls and finally showing up at his work to convince Tom he was being truthful when he told Shannon the name of the place. Rhydian sighed, reliving the memory of cornering Tom at the small coffee kiosk outside his job.

Rhydian shivered as the sun began to set, taking with it the warmth. April was rolling in like a slow moving snail, and it couldn’t come quicker for the young man. Part of him wanted to scream, the other part of him wanted to just put his fist through a wall, but he knew very well he couldn’t do the latter. So, as per his usual - a habit he had caught onto to burn off energy when he first began transforming, he went for a run. After blitzing through the town and over the valley, he came to his destination, the plains that buffered the village to the waters. It was beautiful, just as it was ten years ago when he last saw her . . . when they shared their first and last kiss.

He closed his eyes reflecting the warmth of that day, the haze of the setting sun, the wind that seemed to be ushering the Smiths to their next steps . . . quite possibly last. Rhydian felt his chest tighten as the serenity of the memory morphed into something horrifying, a laboratory with three cold steel tables, white sheets draped over bodies: one tall and two petite. Rhydian shook his head, gasped for air as he swore he could hear screaming. His shot open in alarm, tears spilling from them. A tittering of some loose gravel startled the Wolfblood, who jumped to his feet and quickly turned toward the noise.

Tom nearly lost his footing at Rhydian’s quick movements. Holding his hands up, “Relax, mate.”

“What the bloody hell are you doing here, Tom?” He snapped, feeling exposed.

“You ain’t the only one to have lost someone, Rhydian,” he shot back. “She was my friend before she was ever yourgirlfriend.” Rhydian knew he was right, sort of. Yes, she was Tom’s friend long before Rhydian and she had ever crossed paths, but Maddy was so much more than just a “girlfriend” to Rhydian. He had fallen in love with Maddy and a piece of his heart was stolen, kept by her when she left. And the hole it left now oozed, his heart crippled by the chunk taken, left to wonder if there was enough of itself remaining to give to someone else. If his and Laura’s doomed romance was anything to go by, he wasn’t hopeful.

 _Maybe Alric was right . . . maybe a Wolfblood can’t survive alone_ , he thought.

“You have me bugged or somethin’?” Trying to lighten the mood.

“Naw, your father said somethin’ like you were going for a walk . . . I just had a hunch is all. . . I sometimes come here myself.” He didn’t look at Rhydian when he disclosed that little tidbit, just remained stoic, staring into the remnants of warm hues that followed the retreating sun.

“Can I tell you somethin’, Tom?” The former football player didn’t respond, but just looked at him curiously.

“I wish I had went with them even if it would have created problems, maybe . . . just maybe things would have turned out different.”

“Yeah . . . and I wish I hadn’t bought that damn dog chew.” Rhydian could hear Tom swallow, as if forcing the unspoken guilt back down. The two stood on the hillside until night had suppressed the last glimmers of day.

“I spoke to my aunt . . . she’s a partner at Dickerson’s Auction. Knows all the little antique shops in England. She says that she had never heard of Ms. Laurent’s Second Hand Treasures, yah? But, she had heard of a Ms. LaRue’s . . .” Tom paused, watching Rhydian from the corner of his eye process what he had just hinted. “Maybe, yah? What do you think?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he answered, a snarky smile playing at his lips.

* * *

Rhydian saw Jana leaving a small bakery about a mile from Segolia. If he was going to proposition her on helping with their plans of finding Maddy, he would need to do it today, and do it _now._

The last thing Rhydian desired was allowing Segolia to learn that they had reopened their investigation of the Smith family’s disappearance without their authority. It could not only lead to Jana being fired, but all of them being detained for intervening in government matters. While he rather not ponder to what extent Segolia would go to shut down their investigation and keep them quiet, he was sure it would be swift and final.

Rhydian was closing in on her, picking up the pace, a loud _bang_ was heard as a car backfired, a cloud of toxic fumes emitting from its tailpipe. When the young Mr. Morris turned his attention back, he was shocked to find her gone - vanished. Rhydian was about to break into a sprint, when he felt a small hands pull him by his hoodie into the rather desolate side street. “Hey!” he hollered, wrenching free from the person’s grasp.

It was Jana, one eyebrow cocked in perturbed annoyance.

“What do you think ya’ doin’?”

Rhydian looked back from her to the main drag and back. “How?”

“Remember, my job is to track down threats. Not to mention, I was born a Wild Wolfblood, idiot.”

She extracted a pastry from a white paper bag and took a bite, tearing into the glazed sweet with more aggression than warranted.

“I wanted to be sure you weren’t with _anyone_ before I spoke to you. Listen, me, Shannon, and Tom are goin’ to break-in to Ms. LaRue’s - ”

“To steal the address information for the jacket you believe belongs to Maddy,” she finished, a smirk of satisfaction creeping on her face at the way he deflated. “Shannon called me the night you informed her of the name of the place. At least someone feels I should be included.”

Rhydian sighed, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wanted - want - you to come. I just wanted to invite you without . . . you-know-who . . . knowing.”

“I’m not a Death Eater. I don’t work for Voldemort, Rhydian. Segolia does a lot of good too, you know,” she chided, pushing the last bit of pastry into her mouth.

Rhydian put up his hands in a show of submission. The last thing he wanted was a fight. Knowing he was on borrowed time as he watched her peak at her watch, he apologized. “I’m sorry, really. I also came,” at this he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “to apologize for what I said at dinner.”

It was quiet and she tilted her head from side to side in heavy contemplation of his confession. She crumpled the empty bag and tossed it into a nearby bin. Focusing back on him, “If I thought for a second I could solve the mystery of what happened to Maddy and her parents, I would do it regardless of what it meant for my place at Segolia. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he murmured, feeling even worse for having said what he did. His expression turning mischievous, “I’m glad to hear you are so willing to do anything because you’ve heard Shannon’s plan. We get caught . . .”

She exhaled, “Oh, I know.”

* * *

“For the love God, Shan, is it absolutely necessary we break in ‘ere and steal the address, yah?” Tom whined, blinking as the current drizzle was edging towards a steady rain.

“Yes, I told you already when I inquired as to the seller of the jacket, I was informed ‘it was customer privacy’ they couldn’t provide that information without consulting the customer.”

“And?” Tom pressed, bobbing from one foot to the other, much the way he would when he was about to start a football game when they played for Bradlington High.

“ _And_ ,” Shannon stressed, “If Maddy doesn’t want to be found,” seeing the look Rhydian had shot her at the mere consideration her disappearance was at her orchestration, “ _or_ , is more than likely, being manipulated or held hostage, that person or persons will be tipped off.” Suddenly surging with adrenaline, she continued, smiling, “Considering it’s been eight or nine - “

“Nine,” Rhydian interjected, distracted as she searched for their last member.

“Nine,” she corrected herself, “years, then we are dealing with a sophisticated operation.”

“If it’s so ‘sophisticated’ then how come she got to sell the jacket in the first place, huh, Sherlock,” Tom shot back, blowing out an exasperated sigh.

Rhydian laughed quietly to himself, missing their banter. He caught the sight of his younger brother who was also watching the scene before them, but with less amusement.

“Nervous?” he asked Bryn, off to the side so as the others wouldn’t hear.

“Only cause we got them as partners. It’d be better if it was Wolfbloods only. We’re more agile, have better sense of smell, and wouldn’t get caught.”

“We’re doing this together,” Rhydian said pointedly.

“A pregnant woman and a washed up athlete, I think I’ll take this time to pray to the Great Wolf Spirit.” At this, he turned away, mumbling under his breath.

Rhydian rolled his eyes at the dramatics, though, perhaps Bryn was being honest as he seemed to be making some type of hand gestures Rhydian vaguely remembered seeing his mother doing during his short lived stay in Alric’s pack.

“It’s very likely they didn’t suspect Rhydian to pick up on the scent . . . Perhaps they are having cash flow problems, resulting in the need to sell items of value or trade. Aha!” Shannon cried out, to everyone’s dislike.

“You’re goin’ to need to be more quiet if we’re gonna break in,” Jana disclosed from behind Tom, causing him to scream and jump. Bryn shot his brother a look as if to silently confirm his previous statement.

“Son of -“ Tom placed a hand to his heart, “Don’t . . .” he panted, “Don’t sneak up on people like that, yah?”

“You understand why we’re here, right?” Jana countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Tom answered, calming himself.

“I searched the perimeter, it’s not guarded . . . by people, but it’s covered very well with security cameras. But,” she smiled like the Cheshire Cat, “I think I found a hole in their coverage. It’s tight and we’re going to have to be quick,” at this she peered at Shannon who was going to be the slowest by sheer physics, “but we can make it.”

* * *

Rhydian looked left then right, awaiting for the sirens to blare and flashing lights wash across them. But nothing. “Six, eight, eight, four, seven, two, and one.” The electronic lock gave a trill celebratory sound, three dots flashing green before cracking open. With a relieved sigh, each of the Scooby Gang tip-toed inside the back entrance. Clicking on her flashlight and taking the lead, Jana slowly navigated them further inside. Rhydian tried to focus, but he couldn’t pull his mind away from thinking about how they would find Maddy. What if she was living outside of England? Or worse? What if Shannon was right and she was being held captive? Rhydian swallowed, wondering if it was truly as loud as it sounded in his own ears. They were shuffling through a narrow aisle of different items, each tethered to the back of the shelves. Bryn’s footfalls ceased and Rhydian whirled around knowing immediately what he was about to do. His attention caught by the glimmer of moonlight filtering in from one of the thick-glass skylights, the chalice’s bejeweled twinkled. Rhydian slapped his brother’s outstretched hand. “Don’t touch,” he hissed. At this he pointed to a nearly camouflaged, black cable that was the relay between a small node attached to the goblet and what Rhydian assumed was a sensor at the base of the shelf. “You touch or move one of these things and sirens will sound. Police will come and we are done. Game Over. Got it?”

Unhappy at being talked to like a cub, Bryn made face, but nonetheless nodded in understanding, retracting his hand to his side. The two Wolfbloods hustled to catch up, stopping short as they burst from the aisle and nearly collided with the group. Spread out in front of them was truly an emporium of antiques, a gallery of history going back hundreds of years, if not more. To their right was a small platform and a lone podium which Rhydian surmised the caller would take bids, before it was a small speckling of empty white folding chairs. Bordering the chairs in front of the group and to their left were tall aisles with different items, ancient artifacts, jewelry, and props from different iconic movies. On the right was a classic 1959 emerald Mini automobile, velvet ropes protecting it from any patron that may not be able to resist touching it. Behind it was a large, wooden wardrobe from the 18th century that had some intricate designs inlaid into each door panel. Past the large, eye catching items, was a staircase that led further upstairs. To the base was tall gate that prevent access to the second floor. Looking about what was on display, he could only imagine what they had stored upstairs.

“Not what I was expecting,” Tom breathed, dragging his flashlight over different areas of the the first floor.

“You’re telling me. When I came by a few days ago, I was expecting a small boutique, not an expansive place like this,” Shannon chimed in, also staring in wonderment at all the different pieces layered around them.

“Don’t touch anything,” Tom reminded in a strong whisper. Rhydian shot Bryn another threatening look, who sheepishly shrugged his shoulders in return.

“We need to be quick. I cut the power to the internal part of the building, once the back up generators kick on the system’s going to try and reboot the connection to the interior cameras, which given the size of this place will take maybe ten minutes - tops - then it will alert the owner and possibly off-site security.”

“Wonderful,” Tom retorted. “Why didn’t you do it for the outside camera’s rather than have us runnin’ across one-by-one like somethin’ out of James Bond film?”

“If I’d cut the lines to the outside ones, it would really draw attention. Those don’t wait for a reboot to notify the owner,” Jana explained.

“Let’s go, you two. Discuss this later. The spot for day-to-day purchases was straight ahead on the left, near the front entrance,” Shannon disclosed, guiding them to said area.

“Wait!” Jana grabbed Shannon arm just as she placed her hand on the small door flap to enter behind the counter. Jana pointed to cleverly hidden sensor placed under the lip of the swinging door.

“Well, I’ll be. . .” Shannon hummed.

“Paranoid much?” Tom quipped.

“More like extremely diligent,” Jana corrected. “You’ve seen the things they have in here. I haven’t lived among your . . .” she paused for a beat, trying to find a better way of saying Natural, “kind . . . that long, but I know this stuff’s seriously expensive.”

“Now what?” Tom asked, looking left, right, up, and down. The young woman with wild, Irish curls, gently laid her flashlight on the counter, braced herself then hopped over.

“Relax, mate,” Rhydian soothed. “Jana’s got this. See,” he offered, gesturing to her deft skill at clearing the counter without tripping any sensors.

“Okay, let’s see what we got, right?” Jana mused, wiggling her fingers.

“Jana’s done this plenty, I’m sure,” Shannon said off-handedly to her husband standing beside her.

“Well, kind of,” the Wild Wolfblood admitted timidly.

“Kind of,” Shannon shrieked, flinching as she was shushed immediately by the group.

“Well, I usually have a partner who’s job it is to handle this part, or some tech to do it for me. _But_ , since I can’t use any of my Segolia stuff, it’s a little harder,” she explained, looking at Rhydian.

“I. Don’t. Want. Them. Involved,” Rhydian reaffirmed.

In the small spotlight from his flashlight, he could see Jana roll her eyes.

Jana looked about the place as if searching for something. “Okay, well, here goes nothing.”The redhead turned on the laptop and entered into the system.

“Wow, that was quick,” Shannon cheered quietly.

“Yeah, well, ninety percent of businesses use their name or a best selling product as a way to get into the main operating screen of their computer. The bright, blueish glow warmed the woman’s face as she continued to work. Tom swept the place again with his light, as if expecting Special Ops to drop down from the ceiling any minute.

Rhydian tapped his fingers on the counter, waiting for Jana to locate the address. Said redhead lifted her flashlight and shone it in his face, causing him to cover his eyes. “What?”

“Must you tap your fingers?”

He groaned, but let his hands fall to his sides.

Jana hissed and grumbled.

“What?” Rhydian questioned.

“Having trouble?” Shannon added.

“It’s just, I tried twice and have not been able to access their customer list. It’s password protected and it’s different from the one I used to get in.” She looked about, “Maybe I’ll - ”

“Wait,” Tom interjected, shoving his arm in front of Jana, and nearly knocking his wife over, affording him a swat on the arm from his other half. “A lot of places only give you three tries. If you used two of ‘em, that leaves one, yah? Last try before the computer locks us out and - and alerts the owner to someone tryin’ to break in.”

“Ah, he’s right,” Shannon lamented. “Our phones do it, an’ the computers we use in the restricted region of the genetics lab I work at are the same way. It’s a real hassle when one of the tech’s mistype their password. ’ave to call IT and Security and everythin’,” she finished with a disgusted note in her voice.

Rhydian wasn’t sure if it was the building or him, but he was beginning to sweat.  
Jana groaned, “If you would just let me - ”

“No!” Rhydian cut in. “You use one of your gadgets and Segolia is all over us. Wantin’ to know what we’re doin’, and - and tryin’ to take over. Leave us in the dark just like before.”

“Rhydian, we agreed we weren’t leaving without that piece of information,” Shannon reminded him, patting his hand. “What other choice do we have?”

“I may have one,” Jana gently broached, looking at each of them.

“One where we don’t wind up in prison?” Tom asked, half joking, half not.

“I know someone who works in our forensic lab unit for Segolia - computer science division,” Rhydian huffed, but Jana continue, “I trust her. We’ve worked multiple cases together. She’s the best. She knows I was on the Smith Case and how much it means to me. I bet she’d help without thinkin’ twice ‘bout it. But, we’re a team, I’m not doing it without everyone on board.”

Shannon followed Jana’s eyes as did Tom, all three staring at him now. Rhydian hit the counter half-heartedly. To come this far and not get the address was stupid, but how could he trust someone he never met, let alone works for the one company, he wouldn’t trust as far as he could throw them?

“I know it’s askin’ a lot, and maybe it’s a long shot because I don’t even know if I’ll get a hold of her, but . . ."

Rhydian let out a strained breath as he weighed the very limited options. “What do you think, Bryn?” Rhydian eyes grew twice their size as he realized, for the first time, that Bryn was not there beside him. “Where’s Bryn?”

“Rhydian?” Tom said, his voice rising.

Rhydian searched the cavernous warehouse with a small beam of light from his flashlight. Four search lights danced across the back wall. Rhydian had just passed over the gated staircase when to his horror he noticed it was ajar.

“Bryn,” he ground out. Turning back to his friends, “Call her. Convince her to help. I’m goin’ after Bryn.”

“What ya mean?” Tom asked.

“He went upstairs,” Rhydian called out over his shoulder, already making his way after him.

Rhydian could hear Jana grumble about Bryn as she concentrated on calling her contact. Rhydian pulled at the gate to see that Bryn must have squeezed himself between the door and the frame. Some lazy worker not bothering to secure the chain tightly before locking it. Rhydian winced as his ribcage rubbed uncomfortably between the metal gate and frame as he pushed himself through. He rubbed his skin, hissing at the abrasion. “Damn you, Bryn.” Rhydian took the steps two at a time. Reaching the top, he realized it was also locked in such a fashion. Rhydian lunged forward as he nearly popped out of the small space like a cork from a bottle of champagne; the second time hurting twice as much. Panting, he picked himself up from the floor and saw rows of makeshift tables littered with different items waiting to be catalogued. In the far end, was a small office, a single stream of light coming from within. Careful not to bump into the numerous tables, he zig-zagged his way to the office. Much like the small loft area, it was under construction, so much to Bryn’s advantage and Rhydian’s bad luck, the office entrance was just a plain door. Rhydian burst into the room to see Bryn was pushing about papers.

“What are you doing? We’re not suppose to alert anyone that we’re here.”

“You came to find Maddy, right? Well,” he lifted some papers, shaking them at his brother, “that’s what I’m doing.” Rhydian was about to throttle him, his hands clenched into fists. “You goin’ to help or stand there like a tree?” Bryn said huffily. He continued to muddle through the copious amounts of different stacks of paper, buzzing about from one spot to another.

Unsure of what else to do, he joined Bryn. “How’d did you know to come up here?”

Bryn paused as if gobsmacked by the question. “Yo-you being serious, Rhydian?” Rhydian stopped what he was doing now and peered at Bryn, seemingly frozen in time. When the eldest of the two didn’t say anything, Bryn shook his head disapprovingly. “You didn’t smell it?”

Rhydian blushed, feeling embarrassed. He took some tentative whiffs of the air and was struck with realization. “The jacket,” he breathed. “Maddy.”

Bryn nodded in a “duh” kind of way. “It was faint downstairs, but I would have thought you’d pick up on it. It’s much more” he turned side to side with his arms wide, “heavier up here.” Rhydian felt his brother scrutinizing him, the air around him suddenly heavier, stifling. “She could have been _in_ here. This very spot,” he said, pointing to where he was standing at that moment.

Rhydian’s insides contorted, he was so focused on finding her, he never picked up on her scent . . . or was this something worse? Was he really starting to lose his Wolfblood abilities.

Rhydian gulped, and resumed with searching, pulling open the top draw of the metal desk next to him. A large leather, spiral notebook labeled _Les Clients_ (Customers) across it. Rhydian didn’t know French, but he felt confident what was inside. He flipped opened the notebook, and noticed - oddly enough - the names were organized by first name. “M, m . . . m . . . come on,” he whispered. Rhydian felt his legs turn to jelly. His whole body wanted to deflate into a pile. No one under the name Maddy, Mads, Madeline, Maddie was listed. They had come for nothing. He threw the leather notebook, not caring to watch its destination and flopped into the old rolling desk chair with the tacky green, cracking leather cushions. He rested his head in his hands, when the stillness caught his attention. Swiveling to look behind him was Bryn concentrating on something in his hands. “Bryn?”

The young, man with chestnut hair flinched, startled out of his reverie. “Look,” he handed the picture frame to him. Inside was a photo of two young women, perhaps in their early twenties. They were stretched out, sun bathing on the beach somewhere. There, Rhydian’s eyes locked on the one nearest the camera, a petite young woman, with hair captured in a side braid, wearing a red bikini with navy trim. She had rectangular, dark sunglasses, and seemed to be looking out toward the water. It was a three-quarters profile, but Rhydian would recognize her anywhere. The frame read _My Girls._ Rhydian turned the frame over and quickly extracted a pen from the cup holder resting on the desk behind him. Using the pen as a tiny crowbar, he wedged the metal clips open.

“What are you doing?” Bryn questioned, looking over his brother’s shoulders.

“It’s a hunch. But most people write something, like a name and date on the back of photos.” Rhydian carefully exhumed the print, discarding the cardboard backing and frame.

**_Sarah and Addie, Amalfe Coast, Italy, August 8th, 2016._ **

“Addie,” he read aloud. “Hold this,” he commanded, shoving the picture into Bryn’s chest. He had just reached the desk when he heard Tom’s voice.

“We need to go!”

Rhydian shook his head as if the man could see him, haphazardly moving items around on the desk, checking under piles of papers. “You go.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Bryn rebuffed. “What are you looking for?”

“Come on!” Tom hollered. “We have to go! Another time!”

“No,” Rhydian murmured. Something inside him warned that he wouldn’t get another shot. “Go,” he demanded, waving off his brother. “I have to find that leather notebook.” He was on all fours, searching for the customer log, cursing for not looking to see where he threw it. “Damn it!”

“Rhydian! Bryn!” Tom yelled, his voice breaking in fear.

Rhydian was about to threaten his brother, but discovered, to his relief, that when he looked, Bryn was gone. Rhydian could hear heavy metal chain clattering, peering through the glass window of the office, he could see an empty warehouse, the metal he heard banging a type of defense mechanism coming into play to prevent thieves from leaving with the stolen goods. “Shit,” Rhydian swore. Lights began flashing all over the building. Police would be here in seconds. Rhydian dumped the contents of the waste basket - nothing. Growling in frustration, he moved some boxes packed between a large filing cabinet and the desk. “Come on!” Rhydian could hear voices and they weren’t Tom’s. Someone was calling for bolt cutters.

Just then a notebook was shoved inches from his face. Bryn was standing, breathing heavily. “It was under the cabinet,” he answered, thumbing the tall wooden piece behind them. “I told the others to go. They’re not happy.”

“Thank you, but . . .”

“Just find whatever it is or all this,” he gestured around him, “was pointless.”

Rhydian snatched the book, and laid it on the wooden floor, frantically turning pages.

“Ab . . Ac . . . A - oomph,” Rhydian was knocked to the ground. Two officers pouncing on him, like a wolves on an unsuspecting deer. Rhydian struggled against them, all the while trying not to wolf-out. From his peripheral, he watched the spiral bound book slide across the floor and bump into the leg of a table.

“Henry, I need som’ help ‘ere wit’ this one,” the officer laying on him, grunted to his partner.

Rhydian couldn’t see Bryn, his vision impaired by royal blue coats, hovering over him like a canopy. Rhydian was pressed into the floor, a knee firmly placed in his lower back. He rocked to one side, trying to see Bryn, afraid what his brother may do or say. He doubted in his limited interactions with Naturals included encounters with law enforcement. Sadly, his efforts were swiftly met with a hard _thwack_ with the hilt of a truncheon.

* * *

Rhydian’s cut to the forehead was stitched and he soon found himself sitting in a solitary cell. He called out for Bryn, but no answer. Rhydian paced the six feet to the door and back to the far wall, considering howling, knowing it was the best opportunity to reach Bryn.

_What if he wolfs-out?_

_What if he hurts someone?_

_What if -_

“Rhydian Morris.” He froze and rushed to the door immediately, trying to see through the small grate that was his only window to the outside world.

“Yes?”

“You are being released.”

Not to say he wasn’t grateful, but why?

Rhydian watched the two officers unlock the prison door and proceed cautiously toward him, placing the cuffs on his hands, escorting him to the front office. Did they contact his parents? Did maybe Tom or Shannon or Jana return for them?

Worse.

Waiting for him was none other than Dacia Turner. If looks could kill, he would have been dead there on the spot. She didn’t so much as acknowledge him. She signed the necessary paperwork and left. Rhydian followed her, his head hung low. Waiting outside was a black BMW with tinted windows. “Get in,” she instructed, opening the drivers seat and already easing herself inside. Closing the door, the driver’s window lowered, “Come on. Don’t got all day.”

Rhydian considered for the briefest moment just making a run for it, back to the warehouse. However, of his own accord, he found himself crossing the short distance and opening the back passenger door. Rhydian stopped with a jolt, inside were Tom, Shannon, Jana, and Bryn; all looking at him quizzically. Rhydian slowly took a seat, closing the passenger door.

“Well?” Shannon asked immediately.

“What’s goin’ on?” Rhydian asked, ignoring her question.

“I called Dacia,” Jana answered from the front seat, next to Dacia. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure what to do,” she said somberly. “I . . .” she began looking at Bryn who clearly had a broken nose, darken half-moons violet bruises cushioned his eyes. His lip was cut, and there was some definitive greenish-purple discoloration circling his wrists where he must have tried to break-free from his cuffs.

“By far the best decision you made all night, I would say,” Dacia chimed in, rather coldly. It was quiet for a few seconds, the SUV rolling to a stop at the next light. “What the hell were you thinking?” she asked, hitting the steering wheel. It was the first time he had ever seen the woman lose her composure before.

“Outside of exposing our secret, you broke federal laws. Do you know the amount of work it took to approve your release, the favors I needed to call-in, and the paperwork waiting for me as I had to rush to collect any blood samples, finger prints, and reports they had not only entered on paper but tried archiving digitally,” she ranted, staring at Rhydian from the rear mirror. “Bloody nightmare,” she hissed. Fixing her gaze from Rhydian to Jana, “I would have thought as a Segolia agent you knew better. Understood not only the consequences but would have put a stop to this asinine plan of his.”

“How do ya know I, or anyone else, didn’t come up with it, yah?” Tom interjected offended. Rhydian watched Jana slump in her seat, like a teenager caught out at a party riddled with illicit drugs. Dacia shot Tom a hard look through the mirror. In spite of not being able to look directly at him, the stare wasn’t any less effective.

Rhydian caught Shannon quietly consoling her husband, patting his hand with hers. “Did you all get out?” he asked, looking over his should at Tom.

“Yah,” Tom replied, “but by just hair, though.” If Rhydian didn’t know better, Tom almost sounded bitter.

He wanted to say something, but knew now wasn’t the time.

“So, now what?” Rhydian asked.

“I will take each of you back: the Okanawes’ to their apartment, Jana to the office,” as she said Jana’s destination, the redhead shifted in her seat. Rhydian felt a lump grow in his throat, feeling this wasn’t going to just be some mild warning. “Bryn to the port, and you - you will be escorted by two agents back to Stoneybridge, that is your new residence, correct?” she asked a little smugly.

Rhydian refused to give her the satisfaction of goading him on his recent failed relationship. “Why not leave Bryn with me at my parents?”

“Your residence is with your parents, not Bryn’s. Per our records, he lives with his mate’s pack in Alby, Sweden. Thus, we are deporting him back,” she said with finality.

“The rest of you will be on strictest probationary watch,” Dacia added. “And for the bloody _last_ time. This case is a Segolia matter. Plain and simple. You all need to move on. I’m sorry what happened to the Smith family. I really am,” at this Rhydian locked eyes with her and he understood her to mean it. “It will always be present with me, in the back of my mind - more than any other case - but you can’t keep resurrecting this. I will not bail you out again.”

Rhydian dug his finger nails into his palm until he was almost certain they would bleed and then relaxed them. The disappearance of the Smith family was more than some cold case, a smudge on a rather impressive agent record. His whole family - life had been ripped from him!

With nothing more to add, the only sound to fill the space was the hum of the SUV speeding down the highway in the early morning hours. Rhydian leaned back in the seat, staring out the window, his mind wandering to how he was to break the newsto his parents of Bryn’s exile back to Sweden.

* * *

It would be an understatement to say his parents were unhappy to learn that he and Bryn had elected to spend quality time by breaking and entering into an antique dealer, almost being incarcerated for trespassing, data theft, and resisting arrest, only to have Bryn displaced back to Sweden for an undetermined about of time. This resulted in Rhydian staying at the nearby lodge for a few days until his father finally arrived late one night stating he had calmed his mother enough that he felt it was safe for Rhydian to return home again.

Furthermore, Rhydian was to have no contact with Jana, who was demoted to junior officer and regulated to desk duty - as he had learned from Tom, who was in fact bellying a sure amount of animosity at Rhydian for unnecessarily endangering both he and Shannon, nearly getting them arrested as well. Shannon, from the stress of the night, was ordered to be on bed rest by her physician, leading to her to relinquish the role as project leader to another team member at work. No surprise, Rhydian hadn’t tried connecting with either of them since.

And Bryn, well, after being sent away, Rhydian hadn’t heard from him at all. That was until about a week later. Looking out the window, musing what would happen during the next full moon, Rhydian looked over his shoulder from his spot on the edge of his bed to see his mother drop an envelop on his desk. She said nothing, just spun on her heels in a huff and retreated from his room. She was very, very good at the silent treatment, whether she knew what that meant or not.

Rhydian waited to hear her cross the living area and back outside before moving to the desk and looking at the mail. It was addressed from a Mrs. Mikkelsen from Denmark. He was about to rip it up, assuming it to be junk mail and his mother not knowing any better, but at the very last second he reconsidered and shoved his index finger under the edge of the flap and hastily tore it open.

Inside were two pieces of paper. The top sheet written in child-like hand writing:

_Deer Ridean,_

_Hop tis elps. Sry its messd up. Gud luk!_

_Luv,_

_Bryn_

Rhydian chortled at the misspelling. “Good luck for what?” he asked aloud, placing the first page of the letteron his desk. Inspecting the next piece of paper was laughable. It was wrinkled as if someone had balled it up over and over again. The one side was frilled where the binding had fought back to release the page. Parts of it were darkened with sweat, and smudged from where said perspiration smeared the ink. It wasn’t uncommon for Bryn to gift ordinary things to his brother, thinking they were the most clever things he had ever seen, as if he had found lost treasure would he share them with Rhydian. Carefully pulling the paper taunt to better read it, Rhydian’s eyes widen as he reached about the middle of the page.

**_Addie Heart_ **

**_Heart & Soul Photography_ **

**_230 Friars Sorrow Lane_ **

**_Lancaster,QA4 2WC_ **

**_UK_ ** __


	7. Between Hearts and Packs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I actually needed to split this into two chapters, so I hope to have the next chapter up shortly as it's already written. It just needs revision. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my story. For those that commented, each one put a smile on my face. Your reviews are very appreciated. They reinforce my drive to continue to write. Thanks again.

Rhydian had to keep checking his wrist watch to confirm that time was in fact still pressing forward. In the last twenty-four hours Rhydian had been an audience of one to his internal debate. What to do with piece of paper that contained the address of one, Addie Heart, aka Maddy Smith?

Standing in the middle of Piccadilly Station, his fingers trembled as he carefully traced the letters of the address. Surely, once he found her, he would again see Mr. and Mrs. Smith. He would have _his_ pack back. He could picture Mr. Smith with his soft smile, greeting him with a firm handshake and a strong hug. And Mrs. Smith, titling her head to one side in amusement as she worked to finish preparing supper. And then Maddy racing toward him, matching his own elation at finding each other. Her small frame overshadowed by his, her arms looping around his neck until finally the distance near-nonexistent, they would _f_ _inally_ share a kiss.

Rhydian let out a wavering breath,“Maddy.”

He would find her.

His leg bobbed, catching the wary eye of an elderly woman wearing a hand-quilted shawl.Crossing his leg over his knee in a show of nonchalance, he chewed his lip and looked out the large rectangular windows at notifications from Underground security, advertisements for cologne, and the newest movie posters. The car shuttered as it began it’s journey, soaring through the darkened tunnels.

Rhydian sighed more the once to the discontent of the woman across him. Eventually, the cars jostled as the train rolled to a halt. Rhydian heard the ding of the doors opening and suddenly remembering it was his stop, he hopped out at the very last minute, watching the underground train pull away.

While ascending up the steps to the surface again, Rhydian was met by a stranger wanting down the very same time. The blond was pushed aside by a burly, stout man that appeared to be preparing to go on holidayas he dragged a small carry on behind him. The man mumbled something of an insult at the young man blocking the path. Reaching topside, Rhydian scooted under the awning that lined the corner shoppe.

“I can’t do this,” he scolded himself. What had he been thinking? He turned about-face and retreated back to the underground entrance to the Tube. He would return to Stoneybridge and call the others so they could properly plan, but as he stepped up to the gate and extracted his Oyster card from his back pocket, he paused. Rhydian shook his head, there was no time to waste. What if their little break-in at the auction house sparked some type of counter measure to steal Maddy away again? The young Mr. Morris spun around nearly colliding with a petite woman. They shuffled side-to-side a few times before she let out an exasperated sigh and stood with her hand on her hips. Rhydian laughed nervously, much to the dismay of the woman, and awkwardly squeezed himself between the gate and her to remove himself as an obstacle. He reemerged back onto the street and ducked into the small coffee shop at the corner.

* * *

Exiting the coffee house, holding a piping hot cup of coffee, he exhaled. “Okay, take a walk, and then you decide, find Maddy . . . or go back and tell the others . . .”

Rhydian crossed several streets, then meandered through a park before realizing where he was. Just across the way was a studio with a large window display, the name spelled out in curvy writing, encompassed by a large heart. He nearly crushed the cup in his hands, knowing that he let his guard down and somehow his inner wolf had steered him there.

_Heart & Soul Photography_.

Huffing, Rhydian removed the white lid and peered inside, nearly a third of a cup left. Discarding the lid, he downed the remaining liquid in one go along with his better judgement. The cup followed the lid into the waste bin; he jogged across the street and stood outside the well-lit studio. “Here goes nothing,” he murmured to himself as he tugged on the door handle.

Rhydian stepped into a warmly lite gallery. A receptionist desk was station only a few steps away, to his right a glossy white wall was the back drop to several pristine looking framed photographs. To his right were black leather chairs with a glass coffee table center stage. On top the contemporary glass table were thin, black leather bound albums purposefully placed as if toppled dominos. Feeling underdressed and self-conscious, he rubbed his clammy hands on his stained denim jeans, and exhaled loudly. No one was sitting at the receptionist desk . . . no one was around. Rhydian contemplated turning around, but spotted from the corner of the waiting area a small spherical orb attached to the ceiling, which rotated and fixed on him. Great, now he couldn’t leave.

After pacing the length of the room and still no one to address him, he seated himself in a chair, taking in the scent of strong leather polish, he picked up one of the hardback albums and opened it. The first photo inside was a black and white still, 35mm, the lighting just so to create the perfect silhouette of wolves moving retreating to their dens in the early morning, dawn just leaking above the horizon. He knew that trademark technique, it _was_ her favorite. He flipped to another of a grown man in his mid-fifties - Rhydian surmised - grey streaks fingering through his dark quaffed hair. A tan fitted suit dressing his lean frame as he twirled a younger woman with dark, nearly black hair that billowed out like her summer dress, it appeared they were at some type of wedding or formal function, by the decorations adorning the dance floor. He continued perusing through a few more that were printed in vibrant colors, until he reached one of a young woman in a wheel chair, poised to look over the shoulder of the photographer, the bluest of skies shared the backdrop with some square homes inlaid into the hillside behind the subject. She looked so regal, as if she was sitting on a throne, not a wheelchair.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Rhydian snapped the book shut and shot to his feet.

“I’m so, so sorry, sir,” apologized the stout blonde in front of him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Gesturing to the album in his hands, “Her work is breath taking. I, myself, have gotten lost in her pictures too. She captures what I feel is overlooked beauty. It’s like . . .” her forehead wrinkled, pushing her glasses up on her nose as she struggled to explain the feelings Maddy’s artwork evoked. Waiting for her to finish her thought, Rhydian connected the woman with the picture he had just been studying.

“You’re the girl,” he blurted out, immediately paling at how rude that sounded.

The woman sighed, but not in a way that embodied annoyance, but silent joy. “That’s my favorite one. And _not_ because I’m the subject. It’s just . . . I feel strong when I look at it,” she shared with Rhydian, a faraway look on her face.

“She seems to uncover the truth, the essence, see things we wish we could in ourselves,” he added.

“Yeah, precisely,” she agreed, winking at him. The conversation coming to a natural lull, she slowly rolled back and steered herself to the desk.

Rhydian carefully returned the book and joined the woman at the desk. “So, Mr. Greer, correct?”

Rhydian blanched, but recovered quickly.

“Are you not - ”

“No! No,” he calmed himself, “It’s just _Mr.Greer_ is so formal, I always think of my old man.” He waved a hand over his worn jeans and scuffed boots as if to further support his claim. She giggled. “You can just call me - “ and it was then he realized he now needed to supply a name, “Rhydian.” It felt like minutes, his heart beating in his ears, his throat closing as he waited for her to uncover his ruse.

“Okay, Rhydain,” she responded, trying out his name as if eating exotic cuisine for the first time. “Is that middle name?” She asked and waved him to follow her through the door that led deeper into the studio.

“Hm? Uh, yes,” he mumbled.

“You’re a little early,” she commented, and he wasn’t sure if she was fishing or just making conversation. Rhydian swallowed loudly, if he was early, then the _real_ Mr. Greer was going to appear at some point.

Rhydian cleared his throat, suddenly noticing there was an awkward hush in the conversation. “My apologies, my mind was elsewhere,” he explained, feeling Mr. Geer was probably a tad too sophisticated than to use the peasant word ‘sorry.’ “It’s been a chaotic sort of day. I must have mistakenly recorded the time incorrectly on my blackberry. Again, my deepest apologies for the inconvenience. I must look like a right old . . . uh, fool,” Rhydian grinned, his teeth pressed together in a forced smile.

“Happens to all of us,” she shrugged off. “Would you like a coffee or tea? Water?”

“Ah, no, I’m fine,” he breathed. She stopped outside the second to last door on the right, and pressed a small button, the door opening to an empty office. She must had seen him deflate, as she quickly rushed, “She’ll be in just a minute, she must have stepped away for a moment . . . I think I heard our framer, Johnathan, speaking in the next room. It’s probably to her.”

Rhydian nodded and took a seat inside. She quietly exited the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

The room was a soft cream color, with plush tan chairs and a settee against the wall to accommodate for more patrons, maybe families. Large framed pictures hung in the office, evenly spaced around the room. Across the way was a few shelves with different plaques and trophies recognizing the artist’s work. He stood, waltzing over to one of the framed pictures and viewed a young couple with their backs to the camera, walking along the beach. The woman’s bridal train gently combing the soft sand as gentle waves reached out to them. Rhydian couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, taking in the image of the newly weds. Rhydian closed his eyes and inhaled, relishing in the smell of the room. In spite of the carpet shampoo, or the diffuser that spritzed lavender into the room every few minutes, it smelled like Maddy. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, which perhaps was the problem. As he opened his eyes, yellow piercing irises looked back at him in the reflection of the glass. “No,” he whispered, “Not now!” He couldn’t believe his wolf was pushing to take over. There was no threat, he was even doing as _IT_ wanted. He was finding Maddy!

Before he could think of something to help him calm down, the door opened and suede, midnight colored ankle boots waltzed into the room. The heels lazily hitting the wood floor, each stride resounding in Rhydian’s ears as the person wearing them continued to enter the room, closing the door behind her. “Mr. Greer, how are you?” she asked, not looking up from the portfolio opened in her hands.

Rhydian swallowed, but then relaxed, this was Maddy - _his_ Maddy and surely she would not be intimidated by his eyes. Taking comfort in that thought, he turned to face the girl - _woman_ \- he had been searching for nearly ten years for.

And woman she was. Her face was more defined, the last bit of childhood having faded, expressive hazel eyes searching the paper in front of them, her face framed with sculpted curls, pinned back in a half-updo. Bright, eye-catching pink highlights layered throughout her long hair as if it were natural, calling to be noticed. Her slender frame carried a toned body of someone that exercised regularly. Gone away were the pullover sweaters layered over long sleeve button-ups. She was dressed in a black leather skirt and matching jacket, a soft-white, low cut cowl neck sweater framed a necklace that dangled a large obsidian pendant that was nestled at the cusp of her cleavage.

Rhydian’s mouth opened and closed trying to form words, if nothing else, rid himself of the cotton mouth he was experiencing.

She took another moment to review the portfolio in her hands, having not yet seen Rhydian. She continued inside the room, breathing noisily through her nose, a mix of contentment and mild curiosity. What couldn’t have been more than a few seconds felt like an eternity and in that time, Rhydian had nearly expensed every ounce of his energy to not rush at her and envelope her in his arms, press a kiss to her glossy, red lips that he was sure would take her breath away.

She finally looked up and jumped, dropping the folder, prints and notes scattering about the floor with a _swoosh_. Rhydian nearly howled in excitement until he recognized the fright etched on her face.

“Uh, your - your eyes are . . . that’s . . . I’ve never seen . . .” she trembled, visibility shaking.

Rhydian’s mind stumbled, scrambling to understand the reaction. Looking about, because perhaps someone had followed her in, and she was just feigning she was scared, he searched around the room. But, it was only them. Breathing a sigh of relief,he stepped forward. “Maddy, it’s me!” he proclaimed, his arms stretched out wide awaiting for her fall into them.

“Excuse me?” She retreated several steps, her back pressed against the shelves.

“I - uh,” Rhydian backpedaled, suddenly feeling he was traversing unsteady ground, and his senses firing on all cylinders that something was wrong, very wrong! He exhaled slowly, “Maddy, it’s me . . . Rhydian?” He searched her face, but she looked anything but pleased at his approach. “Maddy?” he broached gently, reaching for her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mr. Greer?”

Rhydian looked at her like he had just been slapped across the face. “Maddy?” He was about to reiterate that ‘It’s me’, but if that hadn’t worked the first two times, a third didn’t feel like it would increase his chances at being recognized. Rhydian furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of it all.

In the meantime, the woman inched back. “I don’t know who-who you think I am?”

“You’re Maddy Smith,” he pointed definitively. “I’m your -“ At this Rhydian paused, what was he to her? It’s not like they really had the time to discuss their relationship status prior to her leaving. Was he her boyfriend - they had kissed? Friend? Ex-boyfriend? That felt worse than friend, and so Rhydian nixed the last one from the list. A long silence had fallen them, Rhydian realized. “I’m Rhydian, part of your pack.”

“My what?!”

Crestfallen at her reaction, he hesitantly reached out like one would a frightened animal.

“We need to get you to Segolia. They’ll know how to help you.” Perhaps doing this alone was a poor choice, Rhydian considered at that moment as he watched Maddy pressed herself into the shelves behind her as much as physically possible. Sighing in resignation the he was just going to have to take control of the situation and make her understand, he pressed on. “We need to hurry. They caught me on camera already,” he pled, clasping her wrist.

“Good!” she declared.“Now let go of me!” she screamed, trying to wrench her hand free.

“Maddy,” he said firmly, unable to suppress the growl that followed. He pulled her close, claiming her other hand in his, “Are _they_ \- is someone making you act this way?” he whispered.

The photographer slammed her foot hard on his instep, causing him to release his hold, and hobble backward. Rhydian looked down at the offended foot wondering if it was possibly broken, which in hindsight was a grave mistake. As he looked up, he was met with a the sharp end of one of those glimmering awards. Rhydian landed on all fours, blinking rapidly as he tentatively touched his eye. Somewhere behind him he heard Maddy scurry out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Call the police!” she shouted, the click-clacking of her heeled boots echoing in the corridor.

Rhydian hissed as he planted weight on the tender foot and pulled himself to a standing position courtesy of the expensive sitting chair beside him.

Dabbing his fingers to his brow again, he examined the crimson coloring staining his fingers. “Damn it,” he mumbled. He burst out of the room and raced (to the best of his ability) back to the lobby.

As he neared the door back to the waiting area, he came to a halt. He could hear the receptionist addressing Maddy. But it wasn’t Maddy she was calling her. It was Addie.

“Addie?” he breathed, the name on the paper flashing in his mind. What was happening? Rhydian stumbled back, covering his ears as if he didn’t hear it, it wouldn’t be true. “This is all wrong,” he murmured. Yet, more than that, he needed to escape and back through the lobby wasn’t an option. Thinking as quickly as his mind would process, Rhydian recalled a back door in the opposite direction. Gruffly turning around, he was surprised with a painful mist. It burned, dropping the Wolfblood in his tracks.

Rhydian coughed, and his eyes watered with such severity he couldn’t see. His sense of smell was distorted, congestion overtaking his breathing. Foot steps scampered passed him and he could hear a young man - Rhydian surmised the framer, Johnathan - informing a barrage of people he had pepper sprayed the man they believed might be drug addict trying to rob them.

As if it couldn’t get worse, Rhydian felt like he collided with a train as several officers tackled him for the second time in one week to the floor. Hands, many hands, turned him over, and cuffed him securely, his face pressed to the cool wood.

* * *

Rhydian leaned against the cool wall of the cell, hoping to subside some of the swelling. He had gotten a glimpse of himself while he was treated by the prison physician before being moved to another room for processing. His lips were busted open and swollen from kissing the floor - he was lucky not to have lost any teeth, his brow was so bloated with fluid and swelling, it hung slightly, hindering his vision. His eyes were red and his nose continued to run, though it was starting to finally lessen. No surprise that a “nut case” as he had been dubbed was not provided a single Kleenex, so his sleeves were crusted and disgusting. There was a tear from where the breast pocket of his long sleeve thermal he was wearing hung by only a few threads. Flecks of blood where his lips dribbled blood spotted his shirt. And yes, Maddy, better known as Addie, had fractured his metatarsal in his foot. He _almost_ wished the pepper spray had also clogged his hearing so he couldn’t listen to the laughter as the officers recounted his arrest to their fellow partners.

Rhydian watched the cell fill with a warm blood orange, and knew it would be growing dark. Just as he resigned himself to staying overnight, an older brunette woman with deep set crows feet approached, unlocking the door and calling his name. Rhydian slowly rose, but didn’t move immediately, unsure if he was to follow or not. The woman peered around the door she had been holding and gestured for him to exit. “Come on! Let’s go!” she barked. The plump guard stepped back, cuffing him before guiding him down the corridor to the front of the station. “You’ve been released. Someone has friends in high places,” she harrumphed, eyeing him suspiciously. Rhydian immediately knew who “friends in high places” was and he nearly begged to remain locked up. Rubbing his wrists when his hands were finally free, he was gobsmacked to see not Dacia but Jana, her arms crossed over her chest and impatiently tapping her foot. Jana’s shocked expression said it all, but apparently that didn’t stop her from making her thoughts clear. “You look like shit,” she said flatly.

“Right,” he agreed, hobbling after her. He could feel the anger emanating from her in waves as he walked behind, both exiting the police headquarters into the last bits of daylight.

Rhydian grunted and hissed, but resisted asking her to slow her pace. He wasn’t sure where she was directing them; however, he thought it best to keep that question to himself. After some minutes of crossing streets and turning several corners, they were ambling through a long, cavernous underpass. Rhydian pulled the collar of his jacket up, trying to hide face from the occasional passerby. Limping through the expansive tunnel, he gave a cursory glance about the space, inlaid lighting illuminating the walls into the hallow of the cave-like tunnel. He discovered the interior landscape covered in graffiti, every brick colored with an artist’s touch, a twenty-first century Sistine Chapel. He reckoned maybe a hundred artists had passed under and dared to leave a piece of themselves, different paints and styles canvased the underbelly of the pass. Some cried for social justice, some tokens of respect to long-gone heroes, and others snapshots of pop culture nearly forgotten. Rhydian could see the beacon of a street lamp in the distance, signaling that his journey through this temporary reprieve of his senses was nearly over. Emerging from the underpass, he came to the startling realization that Jana still hadn’t spoken a single word. At this, Rhydian’s patience had soured.

“Jana,” he called, his voice bellying frustration. “Talk to me - something!”

“Really?” She whipped around so quickly, he fumbled back on his heels, very close to falling over. “You’re so lucky I intercepted the police transmission and was able to hide it from Dacia. I could get in real trouble, Rhydian.”

Before he could stop the words from pouring out his mouth, he snapped, “I didn’t ask for your help.” He crossed his arms, looking more a petulant child than a man in his mid twenties.

Her hands balling into fists, she physically shook with anger. “What the hell is wrong with you?! I did you a favor, you ass!” She shoved him, and he grunted at the push. It was quiet as each stared at the other, the night giving way to a respectable drizzle that threatened to turn into more.

“What - for the love of the Great Wolf Spirit - were you thinking? Really?”

“I found _her_ ,” he breathed.

Jana’s mouth hung open briefly before finally uttering, “Maddy?”

He nodded.

She turned away from him, rubbing her face in frustration, an over-the-top sigh that bordered on a growl escaping her. “You selfish bastard, Rhydian,” she spat, pulling her hands away from her face to glower at him.“You really are,” she grumbled. “I thought for years that it was brave how far you would go for your friends - how you didn’t care what traditions were broken or authority challenged, but really,” at this the her voice hitched and Rhydian who had been rearing to argue collapsed inside when he saw her fighting back tears, “it was all about _you . . ._ just to get what you wanted.”

Rhydian swallowed, unsure what to say, he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Jana looked away, and breathed. “To think I admired you,” she continued, letting that loaded statement hang in the air. Rhydian knew, to some level, she was talking more about their short-lived “courting” in which they shared but a few chase kisses and long nights just the two of them - him introducing her to the Natural’s world. Rhydian was pulled back to the conversation by her voice, “and in some way I tried to emulate that, until I realized how selfish it all was. Wolfbloods are better as a pack, ‘for the pack, as a pack’’. Rhydian remembered bitterly his mother using that very saying as an answer to his complaints when he first tried living as Wild Wolfblood. “You couldn’t jut wait, could you?”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

Jana rolled her eyes at his emphatic protest. “I doubt that. You _felt_ like you didn’t have a choice, but you did. And what about doing this as a pack. Tom, Shannon . . . me! You know how important this was to all of us. Gone mucked it up now, didn’t ya?”

Rhydian scowled, but fused his mouth shut by sheer will. He needed to take action or risk losing his abilities, or worse, his mind. But, Rhydian wasn’t prepared to share the last part and so he just stared at her.

She took a calming breath and regained her composure. “I need to get back to Segolia . . . maybe I can do some damage control. Damn it, Rhydian,” pinched the bridge of her nose, her face scrunched up as she thought. “You okay to get home from here? Straight home?”

Rhydian nodded.

“Jana, I’m - ”

“Rhydian,” she cut off, “I love you.” His eyebrows shot up into his hairline in shock, she had never said it to him before. “You’re my mate,” she added, watching him visibly relax. “You’re part of my pack, but . . .” she paused, letting out an audible sigh. “Ah, let’s face it. You’re going to do whatever you want. Just remember _our_ pack also includes Shannon and Tom, and for me, Segolia too.” Rhydian frowned at the mention of the Wolfblood organization. “Pout all you want,” she chastised. “You may not have the forethought to care, but I do. I won’t allow your bull-in-a-china ship mentality put us all in danger. I want to figure out what happened to Maddy and her family too, but not at the cost of our friends, our pack.”

He nodded, watching her disappear round the corner of an abandoned building and back toward civilization.

* * *

Rhydian knew the best choice was to go home. Rest. He was still limping, and his face look like he had been a fight with his hands behind his back. The redness had begun to fade, but the swelling of his lips and his eye were still very present. He probably looked as much a monster as people often thought of Wolfbloods. He needed to go home.

Yet . . .

Finding a small park that was bisected by a thin waterway, he sat against a round English Oak, letting his head tip back against the solid trunk. He sat there for nearly an hour, allowing himself to commune back with nature.

Rhydian exhaled and then with a determination unlike earlier, he heaved himself up and returned to the studio. How he would approach her was unknown to him, but he needed to understand what was happening. Was she being forced to act as if she didn’t know him? It was the only solution that made sense. Rhydian lingered in a clothing store, until it became blatantly obvious he had no intention of purchasing anything. Meandering back outside, he walked up the street to a nearby deli.

From his post at the long counter that face the window, he watched the studio. As he finished his crisps, he noticed the lights flicker off. Understanding that as being his cue to move, he tossed the remainder of his meal in the bin and vacated.

_Addie_ had her back turned and was locking up. Finished, she dropped the keys in her small backpack and looked both ways before crossing the street to enter the Underground. Rhydian smothered the voice inside his head that eerily sounded like Jana’s, and followed her to the train platform, keeping enough distance as to not be noticed. He hurriedly swiped his Oyster card and for a mere second panicked that he lost her before catching her scent descending down the stairs to a lower tier. He gambled down the steps and around a corner, quickly ducking into an alcove as he realized she had suddenly stopped. The train arrived in a rush and he watched her board the car. Part of him wanted to scream for her being so ignorant of her surroundings, if he was a stalker - which he wasn’t - he could have easily gotten the drop on her. Listening to music (that he could easily hear without needing his Wolfblood abilities), her head bobbing to the beat, her concentration completely on the illuminated screen in front of her, she linked her arm around the metal grab pole and continued to chew her lip as she caught up on what she missed that day. Rhydian hitched a ride on the car behind, carefully positioning himself next to an elderly man wearing a pin-stripped suit, reading a newspaper.

It wasn’t long before he saw her exit onto the platform and ascend the steps onto the street. Rhydian was only about 100 paces behind her, his foot throbbing to the point he nearly conceded forgoing meeting her. As he continued his pursuit, he contemplated the best method to approach her. As the ideas came and went, he stumbled as a horrific thought escaped to the forefront of his mind. What if there was someone waiting home for her? Rhydian hastily recounted the small time they had interacted, desperately trying to recall if he spotted a wedding band. Not all Wolfbloods believed in such ideals as gold rings dictating partnership; though, some still favorited tribal necklaces with pendants made of gemstones, and some very traditional Wolfbloods still believed in the ritual marking of another’s mate to permanently make known their beloved was taken. “The necklace,” he whispered. Could it be? Was that the reason she was acting like she didn’t know him? Rhydian began to pull at his hair, mounting anxiety pulling his attention away from his mission to reconnect with Maddy - _his_ Maddy.

Rhydian demanded his tired muscles push to shorten the distance between he and Maddy. Watching her climb the few steps to her front door, his window of opportunity to speak with her was rapidly closing. A side-stitch threaded itself up his right abdomen and his foot screamed to be chopped off and left behind, still Rhydian pressed on, until . . . a scent tickled his finely tuned nose. Coming to an abrupt stop - much to his body’s relief - Rhydian awkwardly maneuvered in a circle, his eyes searching for the source. The street had been mostly empty, few inhabitants of the neighborhood seemed interested leaving the coziness of their homes.

Rhydian swallowed, his mouth tasting stale, he wished he had water to drink. While he had been following Maddy, someone had been following them. The jingling of keys played a soft tune, garnering his attention. He watched as she inserted her house key into the front lock and turned the door handle. His mind distracted with worry as to what lay beyond the threshold, he almost missed the dark hulking figure that passed in his peripheral. Rhydian slowly turned his head, his eyes registering not one but _two_ figures lurking in the dark alleyway across her home.

For just a second, Rhydian wondered if Segolia had sent agents to follow him but as he took a deep breath, his eyebrows shot up and every nerve fired signals to his brain to move. Four red eyes reflected like brilliant rubies in the dark, tainted sharp teeth dripped with salvia. Rhydian felt like his legs were encased in cement, his entire body frozen by what he was seeing. Two beasts, taller than the average man emerged into the warm yellow street light. Their broad frames compounded by the layering of lean muscle. They slinked along the edges of the street light, moving soundlessly as if floating. Their backs arched like that of wolves prepared to leap at their unsuspecting kill. Rhydian followed their line of sight to Maddy, who was now about to close her front door, unaware of it all.

Rhydian took a calming breath, his fingers twitching in anticipation, and then he burst forward, doing his all to block everything else but Maddy from his mind. The creatures, his foot, his side - everything pushed to the back of his mind. Understanding his intentions, the two beasts emerged fully into the light the lamp posts provided and raced toward Maddy.

Rhydian continued to sprint forward, dumbstruck by what he was seeing. There was no other option, he needed to get to Maddy first and protect her.

At whatever cost.


	8. Bittersweet Olive Branch

Rhydian collided with Addie, the two crashing into the opposing wall with unanticipated force.

“What the hell?!” Addie hollered, maneuvering in his hold to look him in his face. Her eyes wide in shock at who created their undesirable collision.

“You’re in danger,” he grunted. Whipping his head to look behind him, he saw the creatures at the front steps, arms outstretched, ebony talon-like claws extended. Rhydian grimaced before throwing his weight against the door. Bolting the top latch, he grabbed the small corner table and pressed it against the door. The beasts hammered the door, the wood buckling under their power. _Someone has to hear them,_ he thought to himself.

Watching the door, praying it would hold out under the relentless pounding, he took a few tentative steps back.

“I’m calling the police,” she declared, punctuating the statement by kneeing him in the stomach. She sped away, deeper into her home, leaving the Wolfblood doubled over, coughing. Rhydian sucked in as much air as his now bruised solar plexus would permit. He inched into the living area, taking in the space, searching for evidence of a companion, a co-habitant. . . a spouse. Many scents spotted the space, but it didn’t confirm she was seeing someone. Making his way to follow her into the galley-style kitchen,he heard a window smash behind him. Turning around, a large arm snaked through the peach colored drapes, blindly searching for the window lock.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” he groaned.

Rhydian lunged at the floor and grabbed a shard of glass, in his haste cutting himself. Securing his grip on the piece of glass, the clear blade smeared red with his own blood, Rhydian stabbed the groping hand with all his might. The intruder pulling away immediately with a long howl rippling through the night. Rhydian crabbed walked into the center of the room, panting, he was not prepared in the least to do battle with the beast snarling outside.

Addie returned, armed with a tennis racket. Rhydian covered his face, preparing for the assault. Addie moved passed Rhydian but came to a standstill as her eyes landed on the head that poked through. Rhydian was sure it was a man, but he looked like an extra from a science fiction movie. His nose flattened, wide nostrils flared, ears pointed - rounded with hair, eyes sheltered in a prominent forehead, and an elongated jaw, housing a mouth filled with overlapping sharp teeth. As the young Mr. Morris took in its features, defined under a layer of fur, he couldn’t help but conclude that werewolves existed and he was looking at one.

The racket dangled, limply in her hand that rested at her side, the other hand covering her mouth as if to hold in a scream. Rhydian snatched the racket and backhanded the animal right in the snout. He reared his arm back for a second go when the beast caught the racket mid-swing and wrenched it from Rhydian to the point he nearly took the Wolfblood back out the window with him. Rhydian stumbled back, the creature carefully placed its hands on the broken sill and began to make its way inside. Rhydian grabbed a small clay sculpture that sat innocently on the adjacent coffee table and slammed it over the werewolf’s head. The creature dropped back outside, if only for a momentary reprieve. Rhydian grabbed Addie’s hand and led her back to the kitchen. He leaned on the counter, noticing the terror on her face as she examined her hand that was dripping with blood - his blood. Rhydian pulled his wounded hand from the counter, a smeared handprint remaining. “Sorry,” he muttered, unsure what to do with his sliced hand.

“Are those w-w-werewolves?” she stammered, setting aside her disdain for the Wolfblood in front of her.

Rhydian nodded numbly. In all the commotion, he finally had a minute to just _be_ with her and he he couldn’t think of a blasted thing to say.

The door to the back yard rattled. Each push and pull at the weakening handle, one less second they had to get to safety. Obviously, the other werewolf had rushed out back to sneak up on them from the other end. They were surrounded.

Rhydian couldn’t explain it, but he knew the other one was female, but from the silhouette he could see outside the small window in the doorway, she was the size of an average man. The force of her pulling on the door knob was cracking the inset glass. Rhydian knew it wouldn’t be long before she was inside.

Rhydian felt backed into a literal and figurative corner. He felt his teeth shift and his eyes change, his senses honing in on all the smells, tastes, and sounds he couldn’t quite focus on minutes ago. “Go, hide,” he commanded, pushing her out of the kitchen.

Addie didn’t budge, her eyes locked on him. Rhydian was about shove her in a closet when she blurted, “You’re one of them!”

“I’m not!” He ground out. “I’m a Wolfblood, not a Werewolf!” The irony not lost on him, he rolled his eyes before commanding her again, “Go hide, Maddy!”

“That’s not my name!” Rhydian let out a frustrated growl. This is what she was getting hung up on?

“Hide!” he hollered and shoved her toward the stairs.

She looked about to protest but at the sound of the back door giving and thump of someone - something - landing in the living room, she hustled to the second floor of the row home. Rhydian had his back to the kitchen, but at the last second spun around and was able to throw the werewolf that was rushing him into its counterpart. Rhydian leaned against the railing as his muscles spasmed. The momentary distraction costing him as he felt two arms hug around his waist and pummel him through the banister into the stairs. Rhydian coughed, all the air exiting him at once. The edges of his sight dark and fuzzy, he felt immense regret at snubbing Alric’s offer to teach him the skill of fighting as a Wolfblood all those years ago. A begrudging whimper escaped pass his lips as a long nail pressed into his shoulder joint.

Rhydian swiped at the werewolf’s face, catching him behind a pointed ear and dragging his nails down his face, into his eyes and across his nose. While it would have been better if he, too, had come equipped with the talon-like nails, the beast still screwed his eyes shut and retracted his hands to cover his face. Rhydian thrust his bad foot into the creature’s stomach, pushing him off.

The female leapt over the two skirmishing males and began ascending the steps. Grunting as he got to his feet, Rhydian scrambled up the steps behind her. Lunging forward, he latched onto the ankle of the werewolf, tugging her down a few stairs. Rhydian was shocked (if that was even possible at this point) at the sheer power they exuded as the female regained her balance and began to pull him with her. Rhydian yanked harder, he saw from the corner of his eye the male grab him by his waist, ten razor sharp nails biting into his skin. He yanked at Rhydian, trying to pull him back down the stairwell. Unwilling to let go, the Wolfblood was briefly suspending in air like a tug toy.

Thankfully, red and blue lights flooded the inside of the room, sirens wailing as more cars pulled up. Rhydian landed on the stairs with an ‘oomph’ as the two werewolves scurried through the kitchen and out the back door. He listened to the shrubbery in the backyard rustle and the lightthump of them landing on the other side of the tall fence that protected the property.

Rhydian exhaled. Everything ached. He wasn’t sure how long his eyes had been closed, but they snapped open as the thought surfaced that he could _not_ be caught by the police _again_. Stumbling up the last step to the second floor, Rhydian witness two officers burst through the front door. The disarray of the home was not missed in his quick glance downstairs; yet, there was nothing he could do to improve the situation. Limping through the hall, he could smell Maddy, hear her softly sobbing as she hid in the room right next to him. Every fiber of his being itched to open the door that separated them, but he knew he couldn’t.

Hearing one of the inspector issue instructions to check the outside perimeter and others to follow him upstairs, Rhydian was painfully aware he needed to disappear quick. Spotting an empty bedroom, he hustled inside and closed the door. He pushed the adjacent dresser in front of it. Huffing and puffing, completely gassed by the action, Rhydian suppressed the desire to inspect the room for signs of an occupant. Opening the window, he peered down below and was relieved to find the area deserted. Rhydian murmured a quick prayer before swinging one leg out the window, he hesitated for a moment, wondering how painful the landing would feel. Whispers from the other side of the door and the jiggling of the handle were his cue to leave. Rhydian looked back one last time before making the jump.

He fell to his knees but managing to quickly get himself to his feet. Rhydian listened as more officers entered through the front and back doors, leaving the side of the house unmanned. He could hear officers talking to Ma - Addie, announcing themselves. It was over. Or so he thought . .

Vicious barking broke the minute of serenity. A K-9 unit had arrived on the scene to give assistance. “Where were they ten minutes ago?” Rhydian grumbled as heaved himself up and over the fence with the little strength he had left. He forced himself down a side street, hoping to create enough distance to gather himself.

“I just need to rest,” he assured himself. He could hear the dog dragging the officer behind, snarling as it followed Rhydian’s scent.

Understanding he couldn’t just loiter there, Rhydian found a school playground and crawled into the hiding spot of a jungle gym, reappearing as a very fatigued and downtrodden - but still - menacing wolf. Small spotlights danced about the school yard until they landed on his wolf form. As he came into full view, all four officers that had been pursuing him came to halt, the one officer tied to the German Shepherdpulling on the lead of the dog to hold him back.

“Constable, we need animal control. Where’d the bloody hell did ye come from?” the sergeant commanded.

“You think he’s what caused all that damage?” another queried.

As the officer radioed dispatch, Rhydian fled, hobbling on three paws. He heard them holler, desperate to keep eyes on him. Rhydian spotted an iron fence at the edge of the playground and squeezed between the rungs. Ambling along another couple of streets, heducked between some bins, finally re-emerging as himself. Completely spent and needing medical attention, Rhydian did the only thing he could think of. He unlocked his phone, found his favorites, selected the fourth number from the top and prayed they picked up.

* * *

Rhydian’s eyes felt heavy and he turned his head, pressing it into something noticeably soft and familiar. He smiled, the texture that of a worn and adored teddy bear. A deep inhale and he recognized the smell, the last few hours replaying like a buffering movie in his mind. Rhydian groaned as he shifted trying to rally his muscles and conscious to wake.

He recognized the strong, somewhat nasally female voice and a deeper male’s voice talking in hushed whispers to another woman with a lighter, almost tittering-like inflection.

“Hey, I think he’s up.”

There was grunt from one of the women in acknowledgement to the observation.

“Don’t start, yah?” the male warned. “We’re here because we’re his mates. Ah . . . maybe he was just shiftin’, his eyes are still closed and he’s not movin’ anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Shannon . . . Tom, I didn’t know who else to call? I . . .” the woman sighed, tapping her spoon against the rim of a ceramic mug..

“Nah, you did the right thing callin’ us,” Tom assured. “I”m just surprised he’d call you, get you all involved in this.”

“Yeah well, I guess it makes me a fool,” she answered with an edge in her usually light voice.

“No, that’s not true, Laura,” Shannon comforted. “It’s hard to explain . . . “

“Maybe,” a loud sigh escaped his ex-fiancee, “If I weren’t the . . . other woman . . . I’d find this whole damn thing unbelievably romantic.”

“From what you said, I’m actually worried about Rhydian?”

Laura ‘hmm’, in a detached form of agreement.

“Ah, he’ll be fine,Shan. Wolfbloods heal faster than us.”

Rhydian inward groaned, his suspicions confirmed that she had blabbed everything he had confided in her.

“It’s not that,” Shannon dismissed.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she sighed, taking a long sip of her coffee.

“Ya lost me,” Tom announced and Rhydian could picture the not-so-subtle the eye roll from Shannon.

“If Maddy - or this person he believes is her - she rejects him or maybe . . . maybe it isn’t really her - some look-alike or something,” she urged, her tone oscillating to a yell that resulted in echoing shushes. “I’m just,” she pressed on more quietly, “I’m just afraid what it will do to him. . . his _mind_ . . . his _wolf_.”

It had grown unbearably quiet, and figuring it was time to make himself known, Rhydian rolled to his side, and while each muscle ached, he was able to push himself into a sitting position. Rhydian’s skin erupted with goose bumps as the fleece blanket fell around his waist. He took a moment to examine himself. A layer of soft towels, provided a barrier between him and the couch. Gauze was wrapped around his torso, and around his shoulder. He twisted as he traced the seam of the wrap with his eyes, hissing as his body fought the movement.

“Careful,” warned Laura. He looked up to see three sets of eyes watching him. Rhydian sighed, and touched the spot above his eye, feeling the textured wrappings around his hand graze his cheek. “I did the best I could given you insistence of not involving a proper doctor.”

“Thank you,” Shannon responded gratefully.

Noticing the chill spreading down his legs, he realized the only thing he was dressed in was his boxers. “Um . . .”

“I threw ‘em out, they had blood and dirt, and God only knows what else. I realize that may not have been the best idea _now_ ,” she declared, looking at Shannon pointedly, “But, you had left some of your clothes here, and a pair of sneakers, so . . .” she explained, gesturing to his state of undress.

Rhydian shook his head in disbelief as he recalled the night before. It was then he realized it was dark again. “How long have I been out?”

“Nearly a day,” Laura filled in. She placed her mug on the kitchen island and drifted over to Rhydian. “Come on, your clothing is still in the draws where you left ‘em.” She jerked her head for him to follow, exiting the living area toward the master bedroom.

Rhydian looked back at his mates, specifically Shannon.

“Right,” she acknowledged, turning away from Rhydian.”I’ll just pretend I’ve never seen a half-naked man, it’s not like I’m pregnant. . . or married.” 

* * *

He had just stepped into the room to see Laura roughly opening the dresser draws that housed his undershirts and jeans. She brushed passed him and slid one of the closet doors open to pilfer a pair of his sneakers, which she dropped by a bench that was at the end of the bed to sit. Rhydian silently grabbed a pair of jeans without stains or holes in them, a suitable white undershirt and flannel button down. He gingerly sat and had just slipped his foot inside his right Sketcher when Laura asked, “So, what now Sherlock?”

Rhydian let out an exasperated sigh, as he dragged his good hand down his face, gently.

“I’m not sure.” He scrunched his face up thinking about if Segolia was aware yet of what happened. It didn’t sound as if she had reported him. Understanding it had been nearly twenty-four hours since everything had occurred and he wasn’t waking up in a detention cell in the depths of Segolia's underground holding area, he was feeling somewhat certain he escaped their clutches once again. But, how much longer would it be before his luck ran out?

“That’s an honest answer. . . for once,” she muttered.

Rhydian grimaced, but continued with putting his trainers on, lacing them up. He shot up from the bench seat a little faster than he should have and hissed, clutching his side.

The look she shot him held no mercy.

“I get it, all right? I shouldn’t ‘ve called ya,” he spat. Looking out the door in the direction where his friends were waiting, “I was obviously wrong to drag you into it.”

“Obviously,” she parroted.

She stepped aside, gesturing for him to exit first.

Not quite back in the living room, he turned to her, the two nearly colliding. “I know ya probably tired of hearin’ it, but I am sorry.”

Her shoulders sagged, and her face softened. “I know.”

There was a long silence, “I guess we should be going.”

“Yeah, I think so,” she confirmed, giving him a lopsided smile.

Rhydian and Laura returned, and with a wave of his hand, Tom and Shannon followed him to the front door. As the two Naturals exited into the hallway, Rhydian looked back. “It’s probably best you forgot this, what I told you,” he instructed.

“Told me what?” she asked, with an arched eyebrow.

* * *

Rhydian nodded in understanding closing the door with a quiet finality.  
Rhydian looked about the room. A half constructed play pen sat abandoned in the middle of the living room, while some type of musical cube replaced the spot a plaque use to stand proudly from Harvard where Shannon studied abroad. This musical cube, according to Shannon, was proven to engage infants’ brains, so they were more receptive to learning. Rhydian thought it was nonsense and moved on to look about the space some more. He noticed a small chest of toys rested against the wall where Tom had once allocated for his cleats, shin pads, and football. The small bookshelf Rhydian helped assemble a few years ago, housing all of Shannon’s books on bio-chemistry and genetics had been evicted from their places and restocked with various books on parenting and baby development. Realizing he had been spacing, Rhydian re-entered the conversation which had been mostly small talk.

“So, how is everything with Nathan?” Shannon asked, settling in the chair next to her husband, taking a sip of her lemon water while they waited for their food to arrive.

Jana’s face reddened, nearly matching her hair. “It’s fine. He’s, um, we’re good.”

“That from him?” Shannon pointed, eyeing the gold pendant that hung from a delicate gold chain around the redhead’s neck.

“He made it, well . . . commissioned an artist to make it,” she corrected herself, trying to be coy about the wealth that Nathan had at his disposal. Rhydian focused on the pendant, the delicate setting looked like fine tendrils - vines encapsulating a well-sized Rose gemstone in the shape of a heart. “Um, he says when I look at it, I’ll be reminded that I have his heart . . . forever and always.”

Rhydian shifted in his seat, turning away from Jana and the ostentatious jewelry she accessorized with - but not wanting to gaze any longer into the living room, his found solace in his chipped nails and bruised knuckles.

“How utterly romantic, don’t you think Tom?” Shanon asked, eyeing her husband.

“Why do I even try?” Tom huffed, earning a light ‘thwack’ from his spouse.

Rhydian rolled his eyes. Luckily, Tom was the only one to notice his lack of enthusiasm for the topic of conversation. Had it been Shannon, she would have done more than just throw him a warning look.

“Well, well, well, I think someone is in love?” Shannon hummed, smirking as the blush on Jana’s faced deepened - if that was even possible in Rhydian’s opinion.

“I don’t know . . .” Jana hesitated, her smile so wide, Rhydian thought it may break her face, “maybe.”

Rhydian opened his mouth to tell her to be careful and not be swayed by false hope when instead he cried out in pain. Reaching for his shin, Rhydian whipped his attention to Tom, who had kicked him _hard_ in the very same leg that was already hosting a fractured foot.

Both women looked at him suspiciously. “I bumped the table leg,” the blonde muttered, massaging the spot where he was sure a bruise would soon form. Rhydian knew that Shannon knew he was lying, there was no center table leg or support beam to hit, but before she could decide to press the issue, the buzzer rang.

Shannon began to rise, only to be gestured to sit by her husband, “I got it.”

“Good, then we can start,” she said, looking at Rhydian who had wanted to eat before having to retell his adventure that contained battling werewolves. Somehow having food to dig into, even though he wasn’t much in the mood to eat, felt like a mandatory requirement before dissecting last night’s events and determining their new course of action. He was sure once he told them a minute-by-minute account of what transpired, he would be berated like a child for his questionable decisions that day.

From their spot at the modest dining table, the flat an open concept living area and kitchen, he spotted Tom’s demeanor change as he opened their door. “Bloody hell.”

“Well, good evening to you too, Mr. Okanawe.”

“Right,” he replied defeatedly. “Um, come in,” Tom acquiesced, pulling the door open more and stepping aside.

In walked Dacia along with another woman. From his peripheral view, Rhydian watched Jana fidget, noticeably sliding further in her chair.

The woman behind her was of medium height, adorning a frumpy, ill-fitting turtle neck sweater, her eyes encased behind thick, black square eyeglasses. She had short blonde hair, cut into a clean bob. Her sweater matched a knee length deep chocolate brown skirt. “Greetings everyone,” Dacia greeted in a cheery, false tone. “This is Hannah Fischer.”

The woman waved, mouthing ‘sorry’ in Jana’s direction.

Catching the action, Dacia corrected the woman, “Don’t be, Miss Fischer. It’s refreshing to still see loyalty where it matters,” she added cooly.

Jana paled, reaching for her glass of red wine and swishing it around. A long moment passed as Dacia took in Rhydian’s less than stellar appearance. He was convinced she was about to say something, yet she merely kept quiet.

Dacia pulled out a chair and seated herself, gesturing for Hannah to take the seat adjacent of her.Folding her her hands neatly over each other and straitening her back, she addressed them, “You know,” she began clearing her throat, “My grandfather had a saying, ‘Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.’ Oh and what mistakes you made and mess you’ve all created for yourselves. Had to call in Reserves to help collect materials, mitigate issues, and supplement data. Just a wildfire of a different problems created by your actions. Not to mention all the laws broken. Vandalism, reckless endangerment, trespassin’, assault, failure to obey orders from authority, aiding and abiding a fugitive, tampering with evidence,” she ticked off with her fingers, looking at each one as she did so. “And that was just the one the Naturals’ authorities came up with. I haven’t even started on _ours,_ “ she remarked, with a steely glare.

“So, you ‘ere to cart us off then?” Rhydian ground out, his fingers curling reflexively into fists.

“I should. Haul all your arses off to our containment facility since you’re clearly dead set on letting our secret out and creating as much work as possible for Segolia,” she finished in a biting tone.

Rhydian snarled, his hands pressed on the table as he started to slowly rise. Tom elbowed him and gave him a look, pleadingly he sit back down.

“In spite of the immense workload and additional resources needed to sweep this under the rug - so to speak - you have uncovered some crucial - “

“We didn’t discover buried treasure, I - _we_ \- found Maddy!” Rhydian hollered shooting up from his seat, the chair tipping backwards onto the floor in a loud clatter.

“Perhaps . . .”

“Perhaps!” Rhydian growled, pointing at her, “We did find her.” Then pointing at himself, “I saw her - talked to her.”

“And how did that go for you?”

At this Rhydian swallowed and wiped his hands on his jeans. He looked at his pack, hoping for support.

“I . . . we,” he gestured to his friends, “we think it might be some type of stocking syndrome -“

“Stockholm,” Shannon gently corrected, having enough sense to look down at her glass of water.

“Uh, yeah,” Rhydian acknowledged, nodding to further his point. “Maddy might be under some type of oppression or something and -“

“She’s not,” Dacia cut in.

A beat of utter silence took over the room.

“Um, can I interest you in somethin’? Tea . . . coffee?” Tom offered, clearing his throat. Rhydian shot him a dirty look as if he had just announced his defection.

“We have no intention of staying, but thank you,” Dacia declined, politely. Rhydian was about to retort something nasty, but was stopped short by Jana who dug her nails into his forearm so hard he was sure there would be prickles of blood left behind.

“You seem pretty sure she’s not being controlled,” Jana probed.

“This is a little outside your clearance _now,”_ she began, eyeing her apprentice. Rhydian swayed from one foot to another, listening intently. “Under the guise of being part of the London Task Force for Special Investigation, Segolia Division, I was able to speak with a rather _frightened,”_ at this she paused to look at Rhydian, “ _Addie_ Heart, in which I was able to learn that she suffers from TBI,” before Rhydian could grill her on the meaning, Shannon interrupted.

“Traumatic Brain Injury,” she breathed as if all the air had suddenly evaporated from her.

“Yes, the extent is not fully understood as she was collected by her family - not the Smiths - and taken to their home to recover from the experience of having her home overrun by monsters,” she said, adding air quotes to the word ‘monster’. “What I did ascertain, and Hannah was able to confirm through the acquisition of her medical records,” to which Rhydian snorted because he knew she was skirting the legality of term “acquisition.” Nonetheless, Dacia continued, “she was diagnosed with retrograde amnesia,” her entire disposition transformed, her mood shifted to one of less confidence, her shoulders drooping, and her fingers wrapping against the dining table, “The memory loss appears to be permanent. She has no recollection of who she was prior to ten years ago,” she finished quietly. As she looked up, Rhydian swore he saw for just a fraction of a second her eyes lined with tears but she blinked and they were gone. “I’m very sorry.” It was said to the group, be she was looking at Rhydian as she gave her condolences.

“Permanent,” Rhydian breathed as if someone had pierced his lung, a balloon slowly leaking the last of its air.

“Yes, I have already submitted a request to reopen the Smith case. We _will_ find answers for what happened.”

“And the Smiths? Her mum and dad, I mean,” Shannon inquired, watching Rhydian slump back into the chair that Tom and Jana had righted in the knick of time.

“We’ve been unable to confirm their whereabouts at this time.”

“But we are searching,” Hannah added, who for the most part blended into the background.

“Amnesia,”Rhydian reiterated, leaning back in his seat, ignorant to the worried looks exchanged between the group.

“It obviously has to relate somehow wit’ ‘em goin’ missin’, yah.” Tom said more as a statement than a question.

“That’s what we suspect, yes,” Dacia confirmed, glancing at Rhydian.

“How did you know to find us,” Jana questioned, though her eyes were on Rhydian who for all intents purposes wasn’t really paying attention.

“I instructed Hannah to install software that allowed me to keep an additional eye on you. Call it a hunch, shall we. Though, the excuse you gave, about a flood in your flat, was uncharacteristically flimsy,” Dacia explained, her lips curling just the slightest into a small smile.

Jana shielded her eyes in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Hannah apologized again.

“It better I found out of your egregious insubordination than someone else, like Victoria Sweeney.”

“Insubordination?” Jana yelped.

“You disobeyed explicit orders to avoid Rhydian Morris as he was considered both dangerous to our kind and himself: threat level Alpha.”

“He’s my friend!”

“I see,” Agent Turner lamented, her tone matching that of a parent’s disappointment in their child. Dacia sighed, surveying the group.

“Segolia - I mean, we, um, I - no, we. . .We thought it would be a good idea to team up. Help each other,” Hannah piped up.

“Together?” Shannon perked up.

Rhydian had been listening but if asked, he couldn’t answer a single question on anything said. Maddy had no clue who he was. She had no clue who she _really_ was. Or did she? “Wolfblood. She’s a wolfblood, doesn’t she remember? I mean, how can she not? The moon . . .” he blurted out.

“I cannot answer that at this time. As I mentioned, Segolia will explore all avenues to understand her current condition and figure out what _truly_ happened to the Smith family. Though, right now, we are in the early stages. Hannah is doing digging into Addie’s finances and the people she is closest with.” At this, Hannah smiled at them, but it faltered when her eyes landed on the blonde.

“It is clear I cannot dissuadeyou from pursuing this, so I am offering an olive branch to collaborate.”

“I get it. This ‘collaboration’ isn’t anything but a ruse to keep an eye on us; even though, I - we’re the ones that found her,” he sneered. At the mention of _her_ , the look of terror as Maddy witnessed him wolf-out extinguished his ire.

“I understand you may interpret this as some form of deceit to control you, but I am truly trying to do what is best for everyone, while reducing the potential risks of having a rogue agent and her cohorts acting as vigilantes, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.” She took a long pause, “Look ‘ere, I am trying to protect you lot. Believe it or not,” Dacia huffed.

_Maddy has absolutely no idea who I am,_ Rhydian thought. _No wonder she was petrified by my changing - or my eyes! Something she use to always respond to with kindness . . . love._ Rhydian’s mind continued to spiral into what Maddy - Addie’s - condition meant for him.

Coming to, he started when he found everyone staring. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “I think you couldn’t ask for a better set of minds,” Rhydian said, swallowing thickly.

Dacia narrowed her eyes, suspiciously. “Are _you_ refusing my offer?”

“What are you doing?” Tom whispered, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read his friend’s intentions.

Rhydian solemnly nodded. “But, its not to make any more trouble for ya,” he looked down at his hands, speckled with stains of dirt and blood from the night before. “I got what I wanted. Maddy is alive.” At this he felt a well of tears threatening to fall. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a trembling breath, “That’s all I really wanted.” As the words left his lips he could feel his heart pull apart and his inner wolf howl in protest. He slowly rose, his eyes boring into the grain of the wood dining table, refusing to look at anyone.

Part of him was stunned that not a single person made a pip about him declining Dacia’s offer. And yet, that part was overshadowed by his relief they didn’t.

Closing the door behind him, he side-stepped around the delivery guy, who was making haste toward the Okanawe residence with their food. Despite not having eaten in twenty-four hours, Rhydian had no appetite. He also had no direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Stay safe and well.


	9. When a Door Closes, Another Opens

The bicycle ambled down the long dirt driveway, Rhydian swinging his leg over and hopping off in one motion. Leaning the bike against the weathered, split rail fencing, he immediately recognized the woman with wild, red hair, whose back was to him. Jana was bringing Ceri up to speed with the daily going-ons of her life, unpinning laundry from the line and handing it to the older woman to be folded. Rhydian huffed, pushing the gate open and sauntering up to the women.

“Rhydian, Ja - ”

“Hi mum,” he greeted, kissing her on the cheek. “Jana,” he nodded, exhaling noisily.

“Well, I think I’ll let you two catch up,” she excused herself, throwing her cub a warning look as she withdrew inside.

“Nice bike,” Jana commented looking over his shoulder.

Rhydian - for whatever reason - looked back as if to confirm it was _his_ bike she was speaking about. Not sure if she was being sarcastic or actually complimenting him on his new ride, he shrugged. “I needed something to get me to 'n from work.”

“The docks, right?” She asked, knowing she was right but just trying to be polite. She followed Rhydian as he walked to his bike and began guiding it inside the shed, suddenly remembering it was expected to rain later.

“Jana, I know why you’re here.”

“Really?”

“I haven’t changed me mind,” he grunted as he pushed the bike over the lip of the entrance to the shed. “Just why can’t ya let it go?”

Jana waited for him return, keep silent as he closed the old wooden barn doors. Adjusting her sun glasses, which seemed overkill as it was overcast; slow, dense clouds dawdled over the small village. An uncomfortable silence tailed them as they walked toward the small field that separated the old Smith family farm house and the neighbors’. Keeping to the perimeter fence, Rhydian came to a stop and picked at a splintering piece of wood, understanding it would soon need to be replaced. Finally, he turned and acknowledge the woman beside him. “Jana,” he began with a heavy sigh..

“Rhydian, you searched for Maddy for nearly ten years and then suddenly, you just stop?” It was dance he had been doing for the last three weeks. First Tom, then Shannon, and now Jana. If Bryn knew how to work a telephone, he was sure to be hearing from him next.

He shook his head, and ran a tired hand down his unshaven face, “Jana, I tol’ ya. My goal was always to - ”

“Find Maddy. I know, but I just can’t shake the feeling you aren’t . . .” Jana craned her neck so as to look Rhydian in the face, the blonde stubbornly having turned away to search for nothing in the tall grasses that covered the unplowed fields. “No one discovers treasure and just leaves it.”

Rhydian snorted, his opinion clear on the matter. He scratched his head, his lips pressed in a thin line, deep in thought. Finally, he turned his attention back on Jana. “I’m not goin’ to come back. I . . . trust Segolia . . . Dacia.”

Jana abruptly shifted her sights on the skies above, her head turning right to left.

“What are you lookin’ for?” Rhydian queried, now mimicking her.

“Flying pigs . . . unicorns . . . lightnin’ to strike ya dead.”

Rhydian made note of disgust and walked away, heading back to the house, the conversation finished in his mind.

He could hear the pebbles of the small creak that intersected the property skip across the ground as Jana jogged to catch up. “Sorry, but your _sudden_ support of Segolia is - I dunno - suspicious . . .just a little, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Well, I change me mind, all right?”

“This comin’ from the Wolfblood that said Hell would freeze over first before he’d trust Segolia, huh?”

“Stop,” Rhydian commanded, spinning on his heels, bringing Jana up short that she nearly collided with her old pack mate. “Listen, now that Maddy has been found, Dacia can get the support she needs, yah? And I trust you, okay? I trust you won’t let them screw this up. There is nothing I can offer to help her, all right? So . . . drop it,” his outburst waning with a plea to leave well enough alone.

Jana slowly pulled her shades from her face and squared her shoulders and for the briefest moment, Rhydian thought she might strike him. “Is it _you_ have nothing to offer? Or she has nothing to offer?”

Rhydian stared blankly, as if she _had_ really struck him across the face, and merely blinked at her, his mouth hanging agape. “That’s - that’s not it,” he finally managed to force out.

“Don’t think I don’t know what learnin’ she had amnesia - that it could be permanent - didn’t mess with your fairytale endin’ that you concocted in that pea-sized brain of yours. But if she meant anything to ya - ”

“Watch it,” Rhydian growled.

“If she does,” Jana pressed on, “if _we_ mean anything . . . your pack . . . you wouldn’t being hidin’ like some damn coward,” she finished, knocking into him as she passed. Rhydian wanted to lash out, tear down all her theories, but instead he just watched her mount her own motorcycle. Revving the bike, her tinted visor hiding her face, he knew she was glaring at him as she glanced back before taking off, the bike kicking up clots of dirt.

Rhydian kicked the fence post in frustration, the wooden stake tilting in defeat.He didn’t care that his friends were mad at him, he knew deep down he was doing the right thing.Maddy didn’t need his help - didn’t want it. She needed professional help from Segolia like Victoria Sweeney to protect her and Dacia Turner to dig into the case, and their medical teams. She needed more and better than he could ever give. Plus, he could now get back to his original plan. Everything would work out.

* * *

Rhydian took the steps two-at-a time, until he reached the fourth floor of his old apartment. As he had foretold, once he found Maddy - which is all he wanted - he would return to Laura. Turning the corner, he paused seeing the door open. Several deep, male voices were echoing into the hall. Rushing inside, he discovered two men in large blue jumpsuits standing about as a third, with a clipboard, seemed to be speaking to Laura. His ex-fiancee pointed to different items within the flat, the man with the clipboard taking diligent notes. “Rhydian?”

She quietly dismissed the gentleman, who meandered to his counterparts, debriefing them on the conversation.

“What’s going on?” Looking about, boxes labeled ‘kitchen’ and ‘bedroom’ were stacked about the living area. The framed painting he bought at a local gallery for their first-year anniversary was bubble-wrapped and leaning against a box titled ‘clothes.’

“I’m moving back home,” she filled-in, heading to the kitchen. The sound of packing tape cut through the emptying space. Laura uncapped a black marker, and address the cardboard box ‘fragile - dishes’.

“Like to the States?”

Laura sighed as if she couldn’t be bothered. “Yes, Rhydian. I’m moving back home into my parents’ place?”

“But, school isn’t finished yet? You quit? Was this cause of me?”

He followed her into the bedroom, where she continued to pack some clothes into a suitcase.

“No, yes, and no.” She pulled out some slacks and folded them neatly, adding them to the pile of clothes that already found a home in a large suitcase. “I was going to send your things to you, but since you’re here,” she gestured to the lone box in the corner of the bedroom. “You wouldn’t happen to have your key, would you?”

Rhydian looked from the box to her and back. Shaking his head ‘no,’ he turned his attention back to her. “I . . .I don’t understand. You love teaching,” he blurted out, noting the suitcase was sitting on a stripped mattress, a box shunted to the back of the bedroom marked ‘bedding.’

“I still do. I’m planning to finish the semester at Rebecca’s. Afterward, I’m flying home to stay at my parents’ until I can find a job at another school.” She crossed the room, narrowly avoiding bumping into him and began extracting some tee-shirts from the middle draw of the tall dresser. Haphazardly adding them, she zipped the suitcase with a little more force than necessary.

“Do your mum and dad know?”

“No, I’m just going to show up at their place unannounced like some-people-I-know do.” She turned to face Rhydian, who looked beside himself at the sight of things being boxed and packed. “I need to get myself together. I thought I could do that here,” she gestured to the empty space, but . . .” she paused eyeing him from head to toe. “I can’t. I think a change in scenery is needed if I’m ever going to properly clear my head.”

“Move on from me . . .”

“Move on . . . and move forward,” she yanked on the case and let it fall to the floor with a thud. She leaned on the vanity that he remembered once was lined with different pictures of them wedged between the glass and the frame. “It will be good for both of us. Something we both need.”

“Here, I’ll help.” He bent down and stretched his hand out to grab the handle.

Quickly blocking his hand, “No, I got it.” She righted the suit case and pulled out the long handle. “It rolls,” she elaborated. She moved passed Rhydian, her luggage trailing behind her obediently, and returned to the kitchen. Rhydian was about to follow her and then realized his things were still boxed. He moseyed over and peered inside, examining the collected contents. There were knick-knacks piled on top each other, tokens from their time together. Bunched in a corner was a forest green sweater with the words Bradlington High in bold white font across the front. Rhydian spotted a blue sea-glass frame and picked it up. It was a picture of he and Laura from when then were first dating. They were sitting against a retaining wall, his arm lovingly around her shoulders, the coast a perfect backdrop of simpler times. Rhydian turned the frame over and undid the clips, extracting the picture. He tucked the picture in his inside jacket pocket and let drop the frame onto the sweater.

Abandoning the box, he followed Laura. “What do you mean, ‘it will be good for both of us’?”

Laura took a cursory glance around the space and then faced Rhydian. “You know what I mean. You never truly dealt with what happened to Maddy - I mean it drove you to - ”

“Find her,” Rhydian cut in.

“Yes, but at what cost? And to be fair to Maddy, you need to, if you want anything to happen now?”

Rhydian’s fell open at her words, he wanted to immediately defend himself from the accusation but he had enough sense, for once, to keep his mouth shut. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rolled onto the balls of his feet before dropping back down on his heels with a loud sigh.

“For what it’s worth, I hope for your sake it works out.”

Rhydian snorted at the gracious wish. “Unlikely, she has amnesia . . . it’s permanent . . . she . . . uh . . .” Rhydian felt his throat close as he tried to explain, taking a deep breath, “she has no clue who I am.” He wrapped his knuckles on the granite island before meeting her eyes, weighing his next words. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. You deserved better. I did try my best, though.”

“I know you did. And I’m sorry to hear about Maddy.”

Rhydian inched toward her, but stopped abruptly, reconsidering the hug he was going to give her. Feeling an awkward pause encircling them, he sighed. “I should go.” Silence followed, filling the growing space between them. His hand on the doorknob, he paused as she called his name.

“My father is a doctor . . . to both Naturals and Wolfbloods. I use to tag along to his home visits with Wolfbloods,” her eyes dropped to look at the floor, “I think he had hoped it would spark some type of passion in me to follow his footsteps, you know?”

Rhydian nodded.

Her attention back on him, she titled her head as if studying him. “Anyway, never have I heard of a Wolfblood having amnesia . . . ever. Something to think about.”

“You - you think she’s lying,” his voice sounding hurt more than angry.

“I don’t know . . . If she’s not . . . I just . . . be careful, Rhydian. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Rhydian wanted to assuage her ill feelings, but he couldn’t. “Right,” he forced a smile, opening the door.

“Oh, and if you don’t send your key back by the end of the week, the money we’re being dinged for is coming out of your share of the deposit.”

He nodded, smirking at her threat.

“Oh! Wait! Your things?”

Rhydian looked back in the direction of their room, and let his arms rest at his sides. “I’m good. What was most important I have,” he answered, patting the spot where the hidden breast pocket held snug the picture.

Laura titled her head to one side like a confused puppy, but didn’t say anything. Rhydian gave a lackadaisical salute and then left; her words about Maddy prowling behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my story. There will be more Rhydian and Maddy, I promise . . . but first, Rhydian needs a reminder of what's at stake. I appreciate your patience with my slow updates, your kudos, and your comments. Stay safe and well.


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